SoCal
by Krazyk85
Summary: Being with them wasn't the problem, but losing me was. A life filled with sandy beaches and sunshine, I felt safe here. Nothing bad ever happens in SoCal, except maybe bad Mexican food. Or so I thought. This isn't your everyday love story. Based on the movie Savages. For Kninut, an Edward, Bella, Jasper- polyfic
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Twilight, or Savages, or Melvin Udall, but I do own this dose of fiction.**

**AN: I wrote this fic based on the movie Savages for Kni Nut. It was started under a different account, but I was outted a week later. So, here it is. I'm stamping my name on it. Hopefully you like it and if you're still waiting patiently for Chopping and Changing to update, I'm still working on it.**

***Chapter re-edited by Mariahajile**

**Chapter One...Ish**

Falling in love was exactly how it sounded: abrupt, unpredictable, and face down in the dirt. Palms dented with a million pebbles, and knees scraped clean of the skin. The fresh wound bleeds and throbs. The pain's excruciating. Endless tears roll down your reddened cheeks, and you can't catch your breath from crying so hard.

It's in that moment, beyond the hurt and hammering heart, you know you're alive. And I fell down hard, not once but twice in this life. First, it was for Jasper Whitlock, and then it was for Edward Cullen.

It seemed impossible for someone like me to love this crazy. What did I know? I was a shy, sixteen-year-old girl with an expected naiveté about her. I didn't know what that queasy feeling in my stomach meant. My mom said it was bad shellfish. She didn't get it, never did. The way she described love was a generic brand of passion. You find a man who doesn't annoy you and gives you the big O at least two to three percent of the time, and you call it good.

Several divorces and countless boyfriends later, she still believes in this skewed description of relationships.

But I know the meaning of being thoroughly fucked.

How do I begin to explain how my thighs ache and tremble with the thought of their touches?

Yes.

Their.

Both of their hands and lips and dicks have been on me, in me, and through me. I'm not a cheater or a slut. These boys, harmony and war, are mine. I'm their girl. They love me more than life − almost more than they love each other; best friends since they were in diapers. They used to share surf boards, but now they share me.

I know nobody will understand unless they know how we came to be, how things are never what they seem.

How does a girl like me, transplanted from Arizona to live with her stoner father in California, become lucky enough to find herself in a fairy tale romance with two princes?

Well, I guess my story starts the day my father picked me up from the airport in a rusted '67 Malibu convertible.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: it's decided, I don't own shit, nor am I slick. But I like to mess with these characters. If you're down, so am I. If you read my stories, you know I'll write about anything.**

***Chapter edited by Mariahajile**

**The REAL Chapter One**

I don't know why I expected my father to greet me at baggage claim. Maybe it was the hope that things were different or maybe he'd changed, but I'd only managed to set myself up for disappointment. The long walk toward the entrance, with my forty-pound suitcase wheeling behind me, feels like the last green mile before my execution. Laguna Beach is my purgatory. My mom got fed up with me for ditching school and shoplifting.

The funny thing is that I don't need to steal. My family's loaded. Well, my mom is, through her millionth husband. She married a baseball pro; some pitcher for the Arizona Diamondbacks. He's nice and gave me a pretty good size allowance, but I'm a klepto. It doesn't matter what it is − a dollar pen or a hundred dollar pair of Doc Martens − I'm going to steal it.

And I've gotten pretty good at pocketing shit. It's like a sport to me. All it takes is a bashful smile and a clever distraction. But then a few weeks ago, some annoying clerk at Dillard's caught me red-handed and my luck changed. I can't even swipe a damn tube of lipstick without getting my picture taken and plastered on a wall for notorious shoplifters.

Then my mom went, like, batshit crazy and ransacked my room. She found every bit of the stolen merchandise stashed under my bed and in a large tote stored away in the closet. It was a very impressive collection, but I think it was her platinum 2.5 carat diamond ring that set her off and got the ball rolling on my relocation. That was my biggest trophy, too. It crushed me to give it back to her.

Mom is such a bitch sometimes.

Anyway, so that's why I'm here, standing on this sidewalk and searching for my dad. The thought crossed my mind, like a contingency plan, of what I'd do if he didn't show up. Living on the streets isn't something I fancy. Maybe I could hitchhike home. My mom would take me back. It's not like I'm a horrible daughter. I have manners. Some would even say I'm polite. I'm just gifted with sticky fingers. It's like a mutation or a side effect of a dysfunctional family.

"Hey there, Bella Bean!"

My head snaps in the direction of a lime green convertible with whitewall tires and rust on the fenders. There's a multicolored surfboard hanging out of the backseat, and my father has a beard and blond, shaggy hair. Maybe it's gray. I can't really tell.

"Dad?" I cover my eyes to block out the sun and take a hesitant step forward.

He grimaces. "Don't call me that, man."

"Huh?" I'm on the curb now, and the car's heat is burning my skin.

"Charlie." He smiles and nods. "Just call me Charlie. 'Dad' freaks me out."

Two years ago, he insisted I call him Chief or Sir, but that was before he got shot in the line of duty. He kind went off the grid after that, and we lost touch. My mom must've really wanted to get rid of me if she was willing to track down my elusive father.

Or, should I say, Charlie?

"Get in." He reaches over and opens the door.

The car's filthy. Trash is piled up on the floor, and I have to kick it away to make room for my feet. Charlie doesn't notice my disgust. He only notices my hair.

"It's getting long."

It's to my lower back. The ends are thin, and I haven't cut it since we've last seen each other. But I lie, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"It's not. I chopped a whole bunch off last week."

He swerves into traffic, giving me a side glance, and snorts. "I ain't that high, baby girl."

*()()*

Charlie's different. The once stoic man with a drill sergeant mentality is now a philosophical hippy. He talks non-stop. I try to keep up, but he switches topics too fast. It's annoying and nice at the same time. I'm not sure how to act around him. Even though I haven't seen him in years, I can't break out of soldier mode. Everything is "Yes, sir" and "No, sir." This behavior seems to kill his jive.

Whatever that means.

"You gotta loosen up." He rolls his shoulders, and his body convulses. It's confusing, almost like he's having a seizure right in front of me. I start to worry when he slumps and starts drifting into oncoming traffic. His eyes are closed, and we're heading straight for an SUV.

"Uh, Dad..." My voice cracks. "Dad..."

The SUV's horns blares, and we're moments from colliding with it at 65 miles per hour. Blood and metal and pain and agony are all I can see. "Charlie!" I scream and shake him with both hands.

He snaps his eyes open and jerks the car back into the right lane. He turns to me and grins. "Nothing to it."

I'm disoriented and breathless. My heart won't quit pounding. "What?"

It takes me a second to realize he's fucking with me. This pisses me off. "Asshole!" Father or not, I just wail on him. He's laughing, flinching, and moving away from my punches. He then says something that halts my assault.

"Atta girl."

Sitting back and recoiling away from him, I press my fists into my stomach. I feel sick. "Why would you do that to me?"

There's no remorse or apology in his eyes. He just shrugs, like it ain't a thing. "You're too stiff, kiddo, too much like your mother. I needed to shake you out of it."

My face and neck get hot. I'm fuming. "And nearly killing us is the way to do that?"

"It got you to talk to me."

*()()*

Charlie pulls up to a house on the beach. It's surrounded by a ten-foot-tall concrete fence. There's an iron gate in the driveway that stops us from entering, and all my hopes are dashed that this is my new home when Charlie has to call someone to beep us through. It's gorgeous. Everything about it takes my breath away. Beautiful stone − or maybe it's granite − accents the mansion's exterior walls and a glass balcony that wraps around the entire second floor. There's so much green and colorful plant life. It's a definite change and a far cry from the brown, lifeless dust bowl known as Arizona.

My imagination drifts to a fantasy where I wake up to that ocean view every morning. I'm not a coffee drinker, but I could definitely become one. This boho vibe Charlie was raving about doesn't seem all that ridiculous now.

Charlie shifts the car into park and shuts off the engine. We get out and walk up to the door. He knocks twice, and I lean to my right and peek through the window. It's hard to see anything. The glass is that pebbled texture, giving the home owners needed privacy.

"Not that I give a shit what your mom thinks," he says, and I roll my eyes, "but I think this should stay between us."

I look around, a bit confused. "Why?"

"Well," he rocks back on his heels and shrugs. "Your mom isn't exactly open-minded to this sort of thing."

There's a sick feeling in my stomach, like a trapdoor's opened beneath me and I'm falling to my death.

"Why are we here, Dad?"

The door unlocks, and it slowly opens.

"It's Charlie," he says in a quick breath and pushes me forward, cold AC hitting my face. "And remember that this stays between us."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: These chapters are re-posted and edited by my new beta, Mariahajile (Iris)-so she's taking on the daunting task of back-chapping the entire fic. As always, nothing but love for my pre-reader, Brina-and the ladies who've been nothing but support of this story. If you're brand new to the SoCal, I'm glad you've come to check me out. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Two**

I'm not a clumsy person. Mom made sure of that by putting me in gymnastics and ballet at the age of two. She had me take piano lessons, and when money afforded it, she enrolled me in charm school. It's where professional young ladies acquire their prim and proper etiquette to land a rich husband in their adult years. I rebelled against all of that at fifteen.

But none of those skills matter when you're being pushed by your father and your foot catches on the lip of the door's ledge. I see it happening and am still unable to stop it. My hands shoot out to brace myself for the hard and very painful landing my face is going to sustain.

I tightly close my eyes but feel something different than solid marble floor. It's soft, hot, and smells like Hawaiian Tropic. The firm grip on my arms hurts, but I don't complain when the touch ignites a million goosebumps to rise to the surface of my skin. My brain isn't processing fast enough to reconcile what was supposed to happen and what has happen. I just breathe, not moving, and enjoy this moment of bliss, knowing damn well embarrassment's around the corner.

I hear a chuckle and a gentle voice. "Is this her?"

"Yeah." Dad grunts and yanks me back up by my shirt. "This is my stowaway, Bella. She's the daughter of a friend of mine."

He says this in jest, but it still stings more than I care to admit. Anger mixed with overwhelming resentment cause my hands to tense and curl into hard fists. Calling him by his name is one thing, but his tasteless jokes are crossing the line. An hour in this man's company is all it takes for me to miss my neurotic mother.

I shrug him off and flick my heated gaze up to the asshole we're lying to. A pair of eyes as blue as the sky stares back and knocks the fight out of me.

The beauty and clarity of the color derails my train of thought. Completely stupefied, I blink several times.

Is this boy real?

He's around my age, maybe older.

I can't tell.

Every inch of him is smooth, and his baby face throws me off. But he's tall − way taller than Dad. His blond hair's dreaded and pulled into a ponytail. Sans shirt, my focus drifts down to his red and black-checkered boardshorts. They're hung so low on his hips that I can actually see were his tan ends and pubes begin.

It feels intimate to see that much of him. My head snaps up as a reflex, only to be even more mortified by his smug grin. He caught me drooling all over him, and I can't stop the blush that engulfs my face in flames, but I don't dare look away from him.

Because there's nothing I can say or do to salvage this situation. It's best to act nonchalant. He can't know how scared I am or how he affects me. No matter what I do, though, I can't seem to get my heart to slow down. It's so loud in my ears, and it surprises me they can't hear it.

I force a hardened smile and raise a challenging brow.

He laughs to himself and nods. "Right. I'm being rude. Would you like to come in?"

Dad answers and nudges me forward. "Yeah. Thanks, J-Man."

I roll my eyes at a forty-year-old man using lame lingo. It's more embarrassing than falling into a gorgeous boy's arms. It didn't take long, but I'm grateful to not be known as Charlie's daughter. Two years is what I promised Mom, but after that, I'm gone. I'll be eighteen and free to do whatever I like.

"Are your folks home?" Dad asks.

"No," Boy answers and leads us into this large living room.

There's a glass Arcadia door that's about fifteen feet long and twelve feet high. It brings most of the sunlight into the room and gives a surreal view of the beach. If I listen intently enough, I can hear the seagulls and lapping of the water on the sand. It's peaceful, and I yawn with exhaustion.

"Take a seat," Boy says to me and pats the spot next to him.

It's tempting, but I think I'll lose my mind if I were to be that close. I can still smell him on me. It was brief, an accidental contact, and it's consuming.

I try to play it cool, opting to take a seat on the other plush white sofa across the room.

He watches me with an amused, sexy-as-hell smirk. I think he sees right through me. This makes me even more nervous. Dad's talking, and I try to ignore these feelings, but it's not easy. He stares at me, cracking his knuckles and licking his lips over and over and over.

I want to know his name.

"So…" Dad smacks Boy on his leg to get his attention. "You got the stuff?"

"Oh, shit. Right." Jumping to his feet, he goes over to the bookshelf and returns a second later with a baggie full of oregano.

I laugh dryly. "You're not seriously doing this right now."

Dad looks at me and smiles. "Relax, Bella Bean. It's just weed."

"Just weed?" I scoff. "It's freaking illegal. If you get caught with that, do you realize the jail time you'll get?"

He places his hand over his heart, where he used to wear his badge, and winks. "I'm not worried."

"That's just perfect," I say. "Let's just get arrested. Who cares, right?"

Boy has his head down, opening the bag and pouring its contents onto the table, but he hears everything. I'm sure he thinks our bickering's a riot.

"Some role model you are, Charlie." I'm only joking, but the boy mumbles something I don't catch. "What'd you say?"

He's too busy packing marijuana into a tie-dyed pipe to speak directly to me. "You're being a hypocrite."

"Oh, really?"

"Really." He sets his crashing waves of blues on me. It's breathtaking and maddening all at once. He's just a boy.

I cross my arms over my chest in an effort to seem upset or tough. "How's that?"

"By berating someone for breaking the law when you're a little lawbreaker yourself."

"I don't believe I've ever broken the law."

"No?"

"No!"

Dad's searching his pockets for a lighter. Boy breaks his gaze from me, giving me a chance to compose myself, and hands him a Zippo. The room's instantly filled with thick smoke.

"So, I guess they were handing out freebies at every store you've been to," Boy says to me.

He knows. I want to punch Dad. God! Stoners are such gossiping rats.

I refuse to give in. "It never seemed wrong to me. It was more like a habit or, like, I don't know, a hobby."

"Bullshit." Boy waves Dad off as he tries to hand him back the pipe, leaning forward and shortening the gap between us. "You knew it was wrong. That's why you did it. You got off on the danger and the risk of getting caught."

"And what about him?" I gesture toward Dad. He's still puffing away on the pipe. "What are his reasons for breaking the law?"

Boy grins. "Because he likes getting high."

"Clearly," I say and get up from the couch. The smoke's making me dizzy and a little nauseated, and I know this clam bake's going to get me high soon if I don't get away. "I need some air."

"Here. Let me," Boy says and takes me out the Arcadia doors to the patio.

The breeze carries a cool mist from the ocean, and I take a deep breath. It's like a dream here. The air's clean and fresh. I can see why people who live here are all vegans. It makes you want to take care of your body.

I hum with content, and there's a chuckle beside me. Boy's still here. I can feel his gaze on me.

"Do you surf?"

"What?"

He leans over the balcony, causing our arms to touch. My breath hitches, and my heart pounds. Every part of me wants to get closer to him. I take a peek at him, and I notice how long his eyelashes are. This boy's the most beautiful person in the world.

"I think you should let me take you out tomorrow," he says.

I push and tuck my wild hair behind my ears, gulping down a bucket of spit that's collected in my mouth. "Tomorrow?"

"The weather will be warm, and the ocean will be calm; ideal for beginners like you. I'll pick you up around six," he tells me.

"I didn't even say I'd go!"

There's a perplexed look on his face. "Why wouldn't you go?"

"Uh, because I don't even know your name."

This is how I meet Dad's drug dealer.

"Jasper Whitlock." He extends his hand out for me to shake. I hesitate, and he sighs. "It's not going to bite you."

"Are you sure about that?"

I imagine what it would feel like for him to sink his teeth into my skin. How much it would hurt but feel good at the same. This fantasy of mine sends a tingle to my fingertips and an ache between my legs.

He smiles at me like he knows. "Just be ready to go by six."

I open my mouth to protest, but he doesn't give me the chance. He walks inside and closes the door, officially ending the conversation.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks to KniNut and Sunny for pushing me on this fic, Kmah for being a supportive ear, and Brina for always being my prereader and friend. They're all amazing people to know.**

***Chapter edited by Mariahajile**

**Chapter Three**

Dad gives me a nod and gestures for us to leave the moment I walk back inside. Their business is finished. The weed's gone, and there's no noticeable evidence that anything illegal went down… besides the overwhelming smell of the stuff. They did try to hide it, though. There's a can of Wildflower Febreze on the table, and judging by my sinus headache, they sprayed the whole damn thing.

It's like a stoner's meadow up in here.

Jasper's eyes are on me, and he's all smiles, flipping and rolling the Zippo in between his long fingers. The motion's languid and suggestive. It's like he's doing it for my benefit, like he wants me to know how coordinated his fingers are and just how good they'd feel curled up inside me. Or maybe I'm only seeing what I want to see.

"We're going to take off," Dad says and stands to his feet.

Jasper doesn't hear him or notice the hand in his face. It's only when I move that he gets up, but even still, he doesn't acknowledge Dad and practically knocks him over to get to me.

"Before you bail, like, let me get your number."

"Um, okay." I reach into my back jean pocket and pull out my phone.

"Rad device you got there," he says. "Did you steal it?"

"What? No! I mean..." I'm lying, because I totally did swipe it from a Verizon Wireless store, but his spot-on insinuation gives me a total brain malfunction. I'm shaking now, and I'm trying to operate my phone and think at the same time. It's a colossal failure.

"Here. Let me," he says with a laugh, taking it from my hands. He's right up on me and taps away quickly, adding himself to my contacts. I think he's done, but he throws his arm around my shoulder and bends to my level. Holding the phone out, I see he has it on camera mode and our faces fill the front screen. "Smile, Bean."

Even though having him this close to me is overwhelming and makes my stomach flip and flutter, I smile with ease. There's an artificial camera click. The moment in time is saved, and when Jasper reviews it, I'm amazed at how great the picture is. He looks otherworldly and perfect, but the shocker is that I don't look half bad. The lighting in this room's fantastic. You can't even see the dark circles under my eyes, and my haystack-like hair manages to seem almost on purpose.

"That's dope," he says and maintains his arm around me as he texts the picture to himself. He even pulls me in closer, and his hold on me is tight. It's hard for me to take peeks up at him without being noticed or straining my neck into a cramp, but I get by with a few sneaked glances.

A second later, buzz, buzz...

Jasper steps away from me to reach into his left pocket. The disconnection's a bummer, but the grin he gives when my number and picture pop up on his phone is awesome. Despite myself and my promise to not show him how much I like him, I smile, too.

"Ahem," Dad clears his throat. "I hate to interrupt picture time, but we need to go."

The Chief from yesteryear's back and in full force. There's no stoner quality in the stern look he gives Jasper. It's all cop and law there, with no in between. The two inches of distance we'd maintained in the last five minutes suddenly become a mile.

"Right," Jasper says and hands me back my phone. "I'll just walk you out."

Dad comes up to me and grabs my arm. He yanks me in close, as if he's escorting me to lockup. I try to jerk away, but he's got a firm, unrelenting grip. We get to the door Jasper has wide open for us.

"Thanks, J-man," Dad says.

"Anytime, bro."

I try to get one last glimpse of him and at least apologize, but Dad's pushing me into the car. By the time I get a chance to look back, Jasper's gone. I slump down in my seat, embarrassed and pissed that Dad went all fatherly on me, especially considering all the years he hasn't been around.

"I can't believe you did that," I say under my breath, but he has wolf ears.

"It might not seem like it," he says and turns over the engine. It sputters and limply roars to life. "And it might not have always been clear, but I do care about you."

"And that's how you show it? By taking me to your drug dealer's house to buy weed, and then getting all mad because he's nice to me?"

"That boy isn't right for you."

"Says who? You?"

"Bella, I know you can't understand things now, but when you're older‒"

"No. You know what? Just stop, okay? You decided a long time ago to treat me like the daughter of a friend‒"

"That's a running joke between us, and you know that."

"But he doesn't, Dad! That joke only works with Mom."

Outside of our quiet dinners at home ‒ and the fact that at the time, when it was considered funny, I was four years old and clueless to its meaning ‒ that playful gag of his is just cruel.

"Fine. All right. I didn't want him to know you were my kid."

The truth comes out, and I want to die of heartbreak.

"Why?" I choke back the pain. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"No! Don't you ever think that," he says. He goes to hold my hand, but I move it away.

"Then why?"

"I was protecting you."

"From Jasper?" I want to laugh, because even though I shouldn't trust him, I do. He'd never hurt a fly. There's nothing but pure harmony in his eyes. "Your dealer shouldn't know I'm your daughter because that's top secret, but all my problems with mom and Arizona aren't?"

"He asked what you were like, and I told him."

"And being a klepto is my defining attribute? What about all those dance recitals you didn't go to? Or how I was able to master Chopin on the piano? None of that was worth mentioning?"

I think every father should be proud of his daughter's accomplishments, not dwell on her rap sheet. But Dad's a cop, will always be a cop, and will look at a person's crime instead of the actual person.

"Damn," he groans, wavering between being sober and high. I can see him fight against zoning out and the glazed-over eyes, but he's losing. "Why are you being a drag, man?"

This is not how I want our first heart to heart to go. I'm angry with him, but I'm also so tired from the flight and hungry. He won't listen to me, anyway. I'm running low on breaths as it is, and I refuse to waste any more on him.

"Nevermind, Charlie," I spit out his name. "It doesn't matter."

We don't speak for the rest of the ride. The wind whistles in my ears and whips my hair in front of my face. It's a protective layer, and I use it as a shield to avoid him. It's not until my emotions settle down that I notice the blinking light on my phone. I think it's Mom checking on me or my best friend Rose, but it's neither. Jasper and my face appear on the screen.

My heart's working up to an insane beat, and I give a furtive look at Charlie, who's jamming to sixties rock and smoking a roach. Nothing's going to get his attention now.

Taking a breath and gulping it down, I open message one of four.

**Don't forget. Six tomorrow. Bring a wetsuit.**

"Shit," I whisper.

Where am I going to get a wetsuit? Doesn't he realize Arizona has zero water, and if even we do go down to Salt Lake River, the only attire required is cut-off jeans and a t-shirt? I don't even have a bikini.

I could ask Dad, but I don't want him to get suspicious and ask questions. This leaves me with only one option.

Opening up the next message, I shake my head and laugh. "Of course."

**Try not to wake up ur dad.**

How much did Charlie tell him? I'm guessing a lot, even though he denies it. Maybe he's forgetful because he smokes so much damn weed.

**Don't be mad at him, Bean. Ur all he talks about.**

This makes me curious, and I vow to probe Jasper for more information tomorrow ‒ if I'm able to breathe and function properly around him.

And then there's the last and final text sent at 4:46, one I'll probably read a million times.

**BTW, ur cute when ur mad.**

I want to reply back to him but don't. I'm nervous and don't know what to say. No boy has ever been this forward with me. All the guys in my school were still telling fart jokes and wearing their pants down to their ankles. I liked this one guy, though. His name was Marcus. He was the loner type and wore these black-framed glasses. He talked poetry and conspiracy theories. The kid was a genius and sexy, and I'd followed him around school for a whole semester. I even lost my virginity to him. The two seconds it lasted were two of the happiest seconds of my life. I was in love and swore forever… but then he caught me stealing one of his mom's necklaces and that was the end of that.

***00***

Dad passes out around six. He had a carne asada burrito with some nachos and drifted off to sleep. There wasn't much of a tour of my new home. It's a cottage with one bedroom and one bath. A single lap, and we were done. I cringe at the thought of sharing a bathroom with him, but I reluctantly conclude that I don't have a choice.

At least he gave me the bedroom.

The place is small and a far cry from what I'm used to, but it's on the beach and close to town. I don't have to walk far to find a surf shop or a store that sells wetsuits. The people here are different. They're carrying around green drinks, and they're super blond and super tan. I feel out of place here, not only because of my dark auburn hair but my black clothes are too drab for this beach town. There's one girl I pass on the street wearing a doily. It's a dress, I think. She's also wearing a neon bikini underneath and has jewels on her gladiator sandals.

I'm still wearing my three-dollar flip-flops.

Wandering into a store, I try to act normal. No one's watching me. The girls behind the counter are focused on their phones. One of the best things about today's technology is that it distracts people. While their eyes should be trained on me, they're all posting on Twitter and Instagram.

It takes me two seconds to find the wetsuit and bikini I want and stuff them into my oversized bag. There are no security tags. Thank the shoplifting gods. Security tags have a way of ruining a good swipe. Many of my clothes today still have holes, and require a little patch and sew.

The girls wave bye as I walk out the door. It gives me that thrill, the one Jasper was talking about, but the risk wasn't there. I need bigger game to get the blood flowing again. But today was out of necessity and required simplicity.

I stay out late walking the streets and don't return back home until past nine. Even then, I just sit outside on the steps and kill time on my phone. Mom calls, but I don't pick up. She leaves a message I don't listen to. The only person I stay in contact with is Rose, who says Arizona's still hot and that she misses me. I try to keep up with her texts, but I'm continually disappointed when my phone lights up with a new message that isn't from Jasper. Eventually, I stop texting Rose altogether.

It's too much of a tease.

Around 11:30, Dad pokes his head out of the door and tells me to come in. He doesn't seem concerned or ask me where I've been. He does ask if I'm hungry and offers to cook me something, but I decline. Dad's high and has the munchies. I can see a bong on the table and smell Jasper's weed in the air. It brings a weird smile to my face, and Dad notices.

He disapproves of him, but I don't care. We're both in a situation neither of us cares to be in. The best thing we can do is stay out of each other's way. I won't lecture him on his poor fathering skills, and he won't try to father me. It's as easy as that.

And if he does insist on keeping me from Jasper, I'll do what I did in Arizona when Mom tried to tell me not to hang out with Rose.

I'll lie and hide it from him.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This is a prequel to Savages, how they met and mostly their relationship. Towards the middle of the fic, I will jump into the plot of Savages. I told KniNut it will be forty-five chapters or so. I'm hoping it won't seem that long. Slow go at first, but once we get going, it'll pick up. I promise. Thanks for reading. I hope to see you soon.**

**Thanks to KniNut and iDanceCullen for pimping this story out. Thanks to Kmah for being awesome and voting for me nonstop at the Twific Fandom Awards-which, I am up for Undiscovered Gem with My Bella. Go vote for your faves, and while you're there give Sunny some love. She's up for three awards. Trust me, she rocks.**

**And last but never least, a forever thanks to my prereader Brina. She's been cancer free for 3 years! She one of the strongest and bravest people I have the pleasure of knowing.**

**Chapter Four**

Dad is snoring on the couch as I tiptoe past him. The house is dark, and I have to use my phone's screen as a flashlight just to navigate through the mess. Dad wasn't much of a housekeeper, and tends to leave things where he drops them. I just hope he didn't think by bringing me here that I would be all Susie-homemaker, because that is not happening. How can I be expected to clean dishes when my whole life is one big disaster?

It's 5:59 when I get out to the street and sit down on the curb. The sun is rising over the horizon and turns the sky into vibrant pinks and purples. It paints the white stucco homes a perfect blend of these two colors, turning them from a once blah existence into something only an artist can dream up.

I close my eyes, escaping everything as the salty breeze from the nearby ocean twirls around me. It is cool and gentle, and my consciousness begins to drift until I fade way. I see myself standing on a chair. A wooden one, and for whatever reason, I am trying to hang something. The legs are brittle and weak, wobbling underneath my weight. The chair tips too far to one side and I lose my balance, quickly falling to floor.

I jerk awake with my heart thumping hard in my chest. The street is quiet and deserted. The sun is all the way up, and I glance down at my phone. It's 6:10. No call or text from Jasper.

He's late...or maybe, this is his way of ditching the kid and letting me down easy.

In the distance, I hear a low rumble, and then a flash of electric blue catches my eye. An older style lifted Ford Bronco whips around the corner and comes barreling down the block. I jump to my feet and stumble back; petrified this maniac behind the wheel is going to take me out.

It pulls up to the curb and stops with a loud bark of the tires. The tinted window on the driver's side rolls down and reveals Jasper.

"Morning, Bean." He grins and slides his sunglasses up on his head, slapping me in the face with his striking eyes. They are wide open. No lies, just raw truth there.

I smile at the nickname. "Morning, Jasper."

Man, I can't believe how much my memory sucks. It doesn't matter if I'd stared at the picture of us on my phone all night long-which, I totally did-I will always and forever be awestruck by how beautiful he is.

"You set?" He props open the door and gets out. All six foot one of him, maybe taller, towers over me. He's wearing a black wet suit, but the top half of its hanging down. Where there should be chest and abs is fabric. He's wearing a dingy old t-shirt with the words _Berkeley_ written across the front. It blocks my view.

I try not to outwardly pout.

"Um, yeah." I bend down to pick up my tote, but he's already there, standing real close to me, and grabbing my bag before I can. He throws it in the backseat. "Thanks," I say.

"No problem." He appraises me for a long moment.

I feel bare under his scrutiny, and instinctively, I tug down on the end of my shirt. "What?"

"I thought I told you to bring your wet suit."

"I did. It's in my bag. I was just going to change when we get there."

"Change at the beach?"

"Yeah," I say slowly, but then again, I know nothing about California or their laws. "Is that not right?"

"No, it's fine, change wherever," he says, and steps aside so I can get to the other end of the truck. "I just thought I would have to work harder to see you naked."

I'm halfway there when I hear this. "What?" And I look to the driver's side expecting to see him there, but he's not, and before I can turn to go back, his hands are on my waist. He squeezes, hoisting me up in one quick and smooth motion. I grab the edges of the door frame to help me the rest of the way.

He stares up at me as I buckle myself in. "You good?"

I nod, but I'm not breathing. He closes the door and walks around the front. With a moment by myself, I let out all that tension and sexual frustration in a rushed _whoosh_.

_It's innocent_, I say as a reminder, but every part of me wishes that was his way of flirting.

Jasper joins me a second later and starts up the engine. The rumble is no hype, the entire cab vibrates. He puts his hand on the stick that between us and yanks it into gear. We jerk forward, until the truck gain some footing and drives smoothly. He flips a hard bitch and heads out the way he came in. I am nervous now, replaying that moment when he touched me. I can't stop thinking about it, but the silence is uncomfortable and going on for too long. I need to figure out how to talk to him. Then I remember my earlier disappointment and present curiosity.

"So," I gesture at his shirt, "you a Berkeley fan?"

It sounds like a lame and forced conversation, but however benign it may be, it's better than nothing.

"Yeah," he laughs, "you can say that."

"Let me guess, you're a business major."

"Good guess."

"Not really. Everyone and their mama is a business major. I guess it's that whole wanting to be your own boss thing."

"Well, not everyone and their mama have my drive to succeed, let alone my stamina to have two majors."

"You're double majoring?" I ask, unable to stop my jaw from dropping. He bobs his head. "In what?"

"Business and botany."

"Botany?" The term sounds familiar, and it takes me a lot longer than it should, but eventually I put two and two together. "You can major in weed? Wow. Berkeley is cutting edge these days."

"Botany isn't about weed..." he says, and I wrinkle my nose at him, "I mean, it is, but that's not the only reason why I'm interested in it. Plants fascinate me. How they grow, breathe, and the whole biology behind it. This may sound like stoner bullshit, but if you know the science of something, you can nurture it, manipulate it, and improve upon it. With that kind of knowledge and heart," he faces me and leans in, his voice but a whisper, "you can change the world, Bean."

There's this heaviness in my chest, like an elephant is sitting on me, and it's suffocating. My heart speeds up, hammering at an insane beat. I try to keep calm, but his lips are so close to mine. They're red and perfect, and I can almost feel how soft and firm they would be. How sweet he would taste. I want him to kiss me so bad, but I don't know if he wants to. He flirts, or at least I think he does, and touches me every chance he gets. The clues are there, so obvious to anyone with half of a brain, but then doubt is stronger. It creeps up, and I think maybe he's messing with my head.

There's a hazard line: I'm Charlie's daughter and I'm sixteen. He's not stupid enough to cross that.

_But he's the one who pursued me yesterday..._

The light turns green and there is a loud, insistent honking from the car behind us. Jasper is practically parked in the middle of the road. He's watching me as closely as I am watching him. This needs to stop.

I look away and stammer, "Yeah, totally," as I obsessively tuck my hair behind my ears. It's one of my many nervous and anxious habits.

"All right, bro," he tells the guy behind us with a wave and speeds forward.

The silence between us now is uncomfortable and I hate that. We were starting to reach a place where talking to him didn't cause an inward panic.

"So, um," I risk taking a glance at him-luckily, he's too focused on the road and spares me the heartache, "what year are you?"

I pray he says freshman (however unlikely) just so the years between us won't be that extreme and unlawful.

"Senior," he says, and that hope of mine deflates.

I count the years in my head, assuming he started college at eighteen and counted four years up..._19, 20, 21, 22...Damn it!_

The years between us won't seem that significant when I am eighteen, but now it's too far of a gap. The belief that anything can happen with Jasper is quickly squashed.

"School starts on the twenty-first," he says.

"Of this month?"

"Yeah."

That's in a couple of weeks-fourteen days to be exact. I don't have to be a geography genius to know Berkeley is good distance from Laguna.

"I'm heading back up there and will be gone until Thanksgiving break. I can't mess around as much and I'll be busy," he says this, and what sounds like a guy ditching a girl for _thee ol' I'm so busy school excuse_, the way he's saying it is much different. There is regret and disappointment there.

And the mere thought of not being able to see him for weeks to come saddens me. He makes me feel sick to my stomach for most of the times because I am so nervous, but then there are those moments where I feel special and beautiful. He looks only at me. It's a high no drug can duplicate.

But I'm a crazy, stupid little girl, and I have to remind myself I don't know him enough to miss him. If he moves away and I never see him again, I will survive.

I think.

***()()***

Jasper leans against the side of the bronco as I get changed in the backseat. I sit there with bikini and wet suit in hand, cursing myself for not doing this in the privacy of my own bedroom. He's being a gentleman though, not stealing glances like Johnny Castle, but eventually a two minute change goes on for fifteen minutes and he grows impatient.

He taps his knuckles on the window. "We're losing sun, you almost done in there?"

I tie the back of my bikini. "Yeah, give me a sec."

The wet suit is next, but I have problems right out of the gate. My foot gets stuck in the tight, elastic fabric and I can't pull it up. The lack of adequate space is another hindrance. I don't want to admit that I am having issues to Jasper and ask for his help. I'm trying the cool and suave approach to take the focus off my age. It's not working.

"Bean," Jasper issues another warning.

"Damn it!" I hiss under my breath.

One second turns into several minutes and I'm not any closer to being dressed. This is so frustrating, not to mention embarrassing, and I have to suck up my pride and get Jasper involved.

Climbing over the driver's seat, I open the door and poke my head out. Jasper turns to me with furrowed brows, but his slight irritation with me is wiped away by my pathetic plea.

"I need you to help me with the wet suit. I can't get it on."

"First time, huh?"

"Yeah, and you know, no one tells you when you're buying them that they aren't as easy to put on as you think."

"That's weird. Most shops will give you a pamphlet for how to put on your wet suit."

I cringe.

"You stole it, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

He laughs, "Jesus, Bean."

"I have a problem."

"More than one it seems." He holds out his hand and I give him the wet suit. He throws it over his shoulder and holds out his hand again. I hesitate and bite the inside of my cheek. He frowns. "I promise you, it can't bite you."

I scoff. "I know that."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Nothing, I just don't...you know?"

"No, I don't know."

"I don't want you to see me," I glance down at my bare stomach, and the shy part of me wants to cover up, "you know, like this."

"You live in California now," he pushes the door open and stands in front of me, "you're gonna have to get used to being in a bikini."

It shocks me and I go to wrap my arms around my waist until I see his face. There is no disgust there. He stares at me, a lot longer than necessary, but there is obvious attraction in his eyes.

Then he blushes, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, and then _he _stammers. "So, yeah, come on, I mean..."

I smile, because this is the first time he's less than confident, and he's too cute for words. "What if I oppose this bikini hierarchy? Will they kick me out?"

"You can oppose anything you want in California," he says with a smirk. "We're liberals. We believe in being green and buying big gas guzzling Hummers."

"So you're a bunch of hypocrites."

He glares, holding out his hand again and this time I take it. "The point I'm trying to make, Bean, is that the only things that get you kicked out of the state are texting while driving and your inane inability to buy things."

_Touche_.

"Home is so different than here," I say, lifting up my foot and putting it in the stretched whole of fabric that Jasper has provided. "A motorcycle cop was texting on the freeway in Arizona." He's shocked by this and I laugh. "What do you expect? We're a Republican state."

"A bunch of cowboys," he says, gesturing for my other foot, and I comply...shit, with him, I'll always comply. "It must be the heat. It drives you all insane."

"Have you ever been to Arizona?"

"No." Jasper moves up from a crouch, pulling up the wet suit with him in one yank and bringing it up to my waist. We're nearly face to face now. I try to back away from him, but he jerks me forward. "I'm not crazy."

***()()***

An hour later on the beach and I have yet to set one foot in the ocean. Jasper takes the time to go over the basics with me. This is the most tedious part of the teaching. I try not to sound irritated when he explains to me what a surf board is, but come on, seriously. I may be from Arizona-where texting while driving is okay and water is considered a luxury, but I'm not clueless.

It's just not what I expected, at all. I thought when he invited me there would be more touching and closeness, but so far the only thing I have been doing is dry humping is his board.

Which is definitely not as fun as it sounds.

Finally he gets to the real meat of the lesson and has me lie down on the board. I demonstrate my paddling technique, which makes me look silly and several people snicker as they walk by. Maybe I look as novice as I feel, but being a professional surfer is not the point of being here. I came here to be closer to Jasper-that's it.

And watching this boy in his element with a wet suit so tight it might as well be skin is better than shoplifting.

What made me ponder the wonder that was beneath his board shorts yesterday are answered today. He's not without, and God has blessed him. I try to not stare, but every part of him is there for me to see, and as a result, my attention span is short. I keep getting distracted by the sweat on his body as it rolls down the peaks and valleys of his hard and defined muscles. It's these little droplets of heaven that become my fixations, often leading me into not listening to Jasper and missing key points in his training.

"Bean, what are you doing?"

I squint up at him. "Huh?"

"You're lying there like a beached whale. Jump up on the board."

"Okay..." and I am not sure how to do this, but try to mimic what he showed me earlier. It's all about upper arm strength. Focusing my attention harder than before, I place my hands on the board and push myself up. I wobble to my feet like Bambi, quickly lose my balance, and fall face first into my shame.

"Wipe out," Jasper says. He crouches down next to me as I am spitting sand out of my mouth. "We're going to be here daily until you learn how to surf."

"I'm a lost cause," I grumble and sit up.

"Maybe so," he smiles and rubs my cheek with his thumb, "but I can't leave you here like this and expect to go back to school with a clear conscience."

The smart ass in me wants to make some snide comment about him helping the unfortunate, but the look in his eyes tells me that I am no charity case to him.

I'm more.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Thank you for reading and reviewing. I know you're all anxious to meet Edward and the pace is too slow, but I promise to make it worth the wait. Let's give Jazzy-pants a chance. Aaron Johnson is a good visual for this man (I'm just sayin'). **

**See ya soon.**

**Thank you to the supporters of this fic: Annie Butts, Sunny Day, Dancey Cullen, Kmah loves to read, and Brina the Brian. You're all wonderful to me. **

**A special thanks to Brina the pre-reader, love you and I want some cheesecake.**

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Five**

Everyday Jasper picks me up in the morning and teaches me how to surf. I'm getting pretty good at pushing myself up on the board. The trick is you gotta get to one knee first and then slowly rise to a semi-standing position. The ocean will rock you, or so I am told, and you need to keep your center of gravity with your feet. All the weight is rooted there. If the sea leans, you lean.

This is the one concept that makes sense to me. All ballerinas know the importance of balance. It's what keeps us from falling and busting our heads or breaking legs—which still happens, even under the best circumstances.

After just a day of these lessons, I don't feel and look as ridiculous. Jasper is also being more hands on with me. It's for the sake of my training, but it still gets my heart fluttering. The simplest of touches, like squeezing my arm in reassurance or brushing hair from my face when the wind picks up, leaves me hyperventilating. If he didn't know any better, he would probably assume I was asthmatic or had some odd respiratory issues.

By the third day, he says I'm ready and takes me out into the ocean. I catch a wave, but it's little and nothing to brag about. Four year olds are doing what I am doing. It does give me confidence, and by the fifth day, I am actually surfing...like really surfing.

I'm no pro, by any means, but Jasper says I am a natural. Not too many people learn as quickly as I did. But now I am addicted. It's a high like no other. The way I feel when I am in the water is powerful. I'm in control of my body and balance. Like my ballerina days, I feel elegant and beautiful. And surfing is a lot like dancing. Water is your partner. There is a give and take. You move with the waves and rocking of the ocean like a rhythm. It encompasses everything.

I don't want the song to ever end.

It's Sunday, an entire week has passed since Jasper first brought me out here. Half the days with him are already gone. He'll be leaving soon. These days of surfing with him, getting to really know him, makes the deadline to when he goes back to college a million times harder. If I was smart, I would have stayed away from him. Cut the weak link between us before it bonded into something that is indestructible.

I know once he's gone, I'll never hear from him again. He tells me every day in so many ways.

"_I'm going to be busy this year."_

"_I got to keep my head in the game."_

"_Maybe I'll come back for Thanksgiving, but I think I would rather stay. Work hard now and blah, blah, blah."_

I get it. He's not looking to get into a relationship with an underage girl. I'm not an adult. I can't drink with him or his buddies. And then there is the overwhelming conflict of interest: I'm his customer's daughter.

What confuses me is why he would even bother? I see the way the girls look at him and he's not desperate for dates. He has spent every day and some nights with me since my arrival. I wasn't a charity case. That I decided the first day. But if he had no interest in seeing me again, why go through all the trouble of teaching me to surf and getting to know me? It's not like I'm some hit it and quit it conquest to him. He hasn't even tried to kiss me or anything.

It's frustrating. The boy brain is way too complicated than what my mother always told me. She was blunt and wasn't shy to tell me like it is.

"_All men ever want from you is sex, Isabella—and then they expect you to cook for them." _

Maybe I'm over thinking it. Maybe it's not all that convoluted. Maybe he just wants to teach me how to surf. That's it—nothing more and nothing less.

"Here, Bean." Jasper nudges me out of my thoughts with his arm and holds out a joint.

I take it and inhale deep without hesitation.

This is tradition, particular one Jasper started when he was twelve, but in my mind it has always been ours.

We surf all day, and then sit on the beach smoking weed and watching the sun set.

When he first offered it to me, I refused. Drugs weren't my thing. But Jasper explained the physiology behind every seed that produces the leaf of a marijuana plant. It's from the earth, he says. It minimizes chronic pain in cancer patients. It treats depression. There are so many positives to the drug. It's not just about a giddy high.

He had me curious, but the first inhale of his special grown weed made me a believer.

Blowing out the smooth smoke, I gazed out into the horizon. The setting sun cast this beautiful burnt orange that set the calm ocean on fire. It's breathtaking. It's a little piece of Heaven on earth, and one of many wonders that Laguna has to offer. These moments with him makes me miss Arizona less and less.

But this weed..."Damn," I take another hit, "what is this?"

"It's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, what..." I pass it back to him. "Where did you get it?"

The flavor is rich, but it's the high that made it unique. Strong and fast, it washes over you with a wave of warmth. My whole body and mind is relaxed. Just one hit. That's all it takes.

"My bro is a navy seal and smuggled in some seeds from Afghanistan a few months back."

"That's serious business, but I like his method."

A fellow thief.

"He's a crazy asshole," he takes two quick puffs, holding it in deep, handing it over to me—to which, I happily partake, "but he knows good weed and he knows me."

A long, savory inhale and my eyes roll back. "So you took the fruit and sinned."

"Harvesting is not a sin."

Hippie bullshit, but we live in the real world, and I'm not afraid to remind him.

"Selling an illegal substance is."

"By who's law? Man's?" His eyes once a pale, whirlpool of blue turns into a cavernous, black abyss in within a split second. "They are a violent and narrow minded species. Savages among the civilized."

There is a quiet storm in him, brewing and accumulating, and I want to pull my hair out. He drives me insane with the way he speaks and moves with such passion. My lips crave to feel his on mine. He knows what he's doing to me. I can see it in his smirk or the way he bangs his knee on my knee. It's no accident. Every touch is purposeful.

Somehow that just makes it worse.

"You're above them? These savages?"

I'm teasing, because I know that he's above us all. He's different than anyone I've ever met. There's compassion in his eyes. He feels everything around him and takes the emotions of people upon himself. It affects him more than he'll ever care to admit, but I see it as clear as a picture in front of me.

If anyone can impact change in this world, it's him.

"I'm evolved and see the potential here." Jasper leans in close, an inch of space between us, as he breathes in the sweet smoke that encases our bubble. "This is our future."

Out of all things he just said, I hear only one word and I know that one word doesn't include me. Considering all the previous words he has spoken to make me believe otherwise.

These last days with him are final.

Unless, I make it known to him that his words apply to me.

"I was thinking." I hold the joint out to him. It's nearly gone.

He takes a hit and holds it in. When he speaks, it's a grunt. "About what?"

"About when you go back to school…"

My heart is pounding her plead to drop it_. _

_It doesn't matter what happens after he leaves—Bum, Bum! _

_We're on our own—bum, bum, BUM! _

Jasper eyes bore into mine. "Yeah, what about it?"

"I was just…"

_Don't break me—us, more than we need to be. Ignore the truth._

_Do __**not**__ ask it. _

But I am too many puffs past being the meek, unsure Bella and what is left is my no bullshit persona Bean.

"You keep talking about how busy you'll be, and that's all good and fine, but I am letting you know _right now_ that I am the exception."

I can't believe how bold I'm being. He's not mine to claim. There is nothing tying him to me. But I don't care. He's impacted my life past the point of return. I'm hooked on him.

"Is that so?" Jasper holds my gaze as the corners of his mouth twitches, fighting back a smile.

"Yeah, and I don't care if it's midnight and you're so exhausted from studying, I will be getting a text from you, because we are friends and that's how friends treat each other." I snag the joint from his fingers and keep it.

I don't look away to prove that he doesn't intimidate me.

"Friends, huh?" He nods, his brain soaking in my word and its meaning. "We can do that."

I grin. "Good."

Jasper plucks the joint from my lips to finish it off and turns towards the sunset. "For now."

***()()***

After the beach goes dark, we go grab something to eat (munchies and all that). There is a place close to my house that Jasper loves. It's called _Hearties_, and it is all organic food. There are hot dogs and hamburgers and fries to die for. My favorite thing there is the beef burger with bacon, onions, sautéed mushrooms, and avocado. The first time I ordered that, Jasper said I was a true Californian.

I beam when he tells me things like this, as if somehow it gets me closer to him.

After we sit down in our booth and start notching on our food, Dad blows up my phone with endless calls and texts.

In the past day or so he's been increasingly aware of my relationship with Jasper. Even though I leave before he wakes up and return way after he's had several hits off his bong and passes out on the couch. I'm not sure when this strategy of mine had went astray (probably during the nine hours I'm gone) but now it's 7:00 PM and he's sober and asking where I am and who I am with.

I groan.

"Charlie again?" Jasper asks.

"Yeah," I hit ignore and shove the phone in my pocket, "he's relentless."

"He's just worried about you."

I scoff, and pick at my food. My appetite vanished and gone now. "He wouldn't care if I was lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding, just as long as I wasn't lying there with you."

He laughs.

"It doesn't bother that you can sell drugs to him, but hanging out with me is off limits?"

"No," he says through mid-bite of his organic hot dog, "because it's not personal."

"He said you weren't a good guy."

Technically, Dad said Jasper wasn't right for me, but whatever, it's all the same.

"I think Charlie would say that about any guy who was trying to hang out with his daughter."

"I'm not his daughter, remember?"

"Listen, Bean," he pushes his food aside and leans across the table, "your dad has had it rough, but he loves you. Should cut him some slack."

"I need to cut him some slack? Why? He hasn't really been a father to me for almost three years. No birthday cards, no calls, no nothing from Charlie Swan in all that time. Maybe he should cut me some slack."

I am breathing hard from my anger. It came out of nowhere. The taboo topic that is my father and my abandonment issues run deep. Yes, I know, he lost a partner and nearly died himself, but I was there for him. Mom and I flew out here to help him get back on his feet, but he shut us out. He shut everyone out and became some hippie recluse. It hurt, because my love for him was unconditional and I thought he felt the same way about me. But I was also naive and stupid. It took me a long time to see the truth.

I'm Charlie Swan's daughter.

There are always terms and conditions with him.

"Hey," Jasper grabs my hand and squeezes it, "I don't know shit, okay?"

This is also how he apologizes.

Half chuckling, I pull away from him and wipe away a tear. "Okay."

"Let's bail." He stands up from the booth and drops a ten on the table. "I wanna show you something."

***()()***

It's a short drive up to the coast, but Jasper doesn't clue me in on where we're going or what he wants to show me. It's unnerving and exciting to be left out of the loop. Then again, I'm not much for surprises, and so, of course, I pepper him with questions.

He ignores me by turning on the radio and yelling the song instead of singing it. It makes me like him all the more because perfect is annoying and boring. Flaws are what makes us human and unique, and in Jasper's case, somewhat attainable.

"We're here." He shuts off the headlights and goes pitch black. There is a very faint and ominous silhouette of his face when the moon pops out from behind the rolling clouds and illuminates the sky, only to disappear once again.

"Is this where you murder me?" I slowly unbuckled my seat beat.

"Maybe you should of thought about that before you got into the truck," he says in a sinister, flat tone, and I start to actually doubt his intentions. He sees this stiffness in my posture and laughs. "Relax, Bean, I'm too much of a tree hugger to actually kill anybody, all right?"

"Okay." I reach for the door handle and stop abruptly. "But just you remember my father is a cop. He has the power to find people. "

"Charlie's DEA. The only thing he ever chases is drugs."

He gets out of the truck and leaves me there speechless. I always knew Dad was a cop and caught criminals, but I never really paid much attention to his specialty. Hell, I didn't even know until just recently that there are different divisions and the cops on the streets are not ones solving the crimes.

My door swings open and Jasper helps me get out. The landing is soft and pliable. There's a fresh, dewy moisture in the air and in the distance I hear the ocean.

"You took me to a beach?" I searched for his face, my eyes eventually adjusting to the darkness, and I see him smile.

"Yes, but we're not here to surf." He takes my hand and pulls me forward. "Hold on tight to me, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." I grasp the back of his shirt and follow him down a slanted hill.

It's a rough terrain with slippery pebbles and random shrubbery. I stumble a few times and get a face full of Jasper's back. But he smells like the ocean, salty water and fresh algae, mixed with a hint of coconut. He's a perfect day, a cool breeze with the warm sun on my face.

I fall once more on purpose.

We stop close to the water and sit down in the sand. The moon peeks out and gives off a bluish glow, too dim to see anything well, but I don't think that is why Jasper brought me out here for the view. I try to make out the curves of his jaw and the slight growth of hair on his face. My hand twitches to touch him and feel the prickles on my fingertips, but I restrain myself and focus on something else.

"So you got me out here, what do you wanna show me?"

"Close your eyes and lie back."

"This better be good." I take a deep breath and do as he says. There are so many things going through my mind. The sound of the waves crashing close by as the tide nips at my toes, and it's all so peaceful...and like home to me. A calm flows through my veins, but even more than that is the excitement and anticipation stimulating my blood. I am sensitive to everything, all sounds and sensations. Jasper is my focus. I feel his energy and heat radiating from his body. He breathes and I move to get closer to him.

"Open your eyes, Bean."

Slowly I open my eyes and gasp. Millions and millions of stars litter the sky. It's enchanting, almost surreal, and I've never seen anything like this in my life. They shimmer in clusters, tightly knitted together, and I grin like a kid when I spot the big dipper. Far from the city and its atrocious lights, a piece of God's work is displayed in a way you know something greater is out there. A world this beautiful and magical can't be a mistake. There is purpose and reason behind every little twinkling dot. Nothing is accidental.

Meeting Jasper was meant to be.

I knew he was going to determine and influence my life in a big way.

"It's really something, huh?"

I nod, biting the shit out of my lip.

"I come out here sometimes to think. When you see this world on a grander scale, you realize how small and insignificant you are. There's this a whole universe out there, never ending where time doesn't exist, and it scares the shit out of me. How can something be that huge, right?"

"Yeah," I whisper.

"But then it gives me hope," he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, "because there's nothing that is beyond my reach."

I sit up and scoot over in the sand, unable to lie there next to him. There had to be a line drawn somewhere, because to be so close to what you want so bad, have it touch you in an intimate way, but still be a million light years from having them is torture. Jasper and I, we're an illusion—just like the sky above us filled with twinkling stars. He had me believing that If I reach out far enough, my fingertips will touch the big dipper, but he's wrong.

It's impossible, and something I'll never, ever possess.

"Hey," Jasper sits up and rubs my back, "What's wrong?"

I want to pull away from him, but don't. Even my own heart is against me.

"Nothing."

"That's chick code for something, right?" He bumps shoulders with me, and I smile, only a little, but he can't see it. "Come on, Bean. Did I do something?"

"No," I say, turning to face him and be honest, but he's already there staring at me. The tip of our noses touch, and it becomes all too real for me. I scoot my ass back to get distance from him. My line in the sand is a weak and easily snipped.

But he follows after me, disregarding my space, and takes a hold of my face in his hands. Despite the darkness, the moon gives off just enough light for me to see his eyes. They are open, wide, a pale blue and boring into mine. He doesn't say anything, but leans in, his lips ghosting over my eager ones. His hot, sweetened breath is on me, slow and shallow and maddening. This is the closest he's ever been, and I wait, my heart pounding fast and hard. It's painful in my chest, yet thrilling to hear in my ears. Like a dramatic drum rolling for the biggest moment of my life.

I close my eyes, waiting and waiting for him to kiss me. Seconds tick by as he rubs my cheeks in circular motions with his thumbs, but he doesn't advance his lips. They are still, just hovering over mine. All my energy to jump the gun with him goes to my fingers and I dig them into the sand. When it feels like I've lost my will to be strong, Jasper finally takes action, but it's in the opposite direction of my whispered pleas.

"I should take you home." His arms drop to his sides and all the warmth he had on my face disappears.

"Yeah, okay, whatever," I say, my voice so small and depleted.

When Jasper stands, he doesn't offer his hand to me. Instead he shoves them deep down into his pockets. I get to my feet and open up my clenched fists, letting the sand of my anticipation and foolish fantasies sprinkle down and return to where it belongs. He turns towards the path that leads to the truck, but I don't move, taking one last look at the stars. They are different now. A trillion miles away from where I stand, their brilliance has faded into tiny balls of gas, and I know no reach of mine will ever be good enough.

They are just too perfect and too old for a girl like me.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks to the usual suspects and supporters of this fic. (Annie Butts, Kmah, Sunny, and so many more) All the readers and reviews means a lot to me and keep me excited about the story. If you're all in, I'm in.**

**Thanks to my pre-reader, Brina, and her devotion to good wood.**

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Six**

Boys suck.

They try to say girls are the problem, we play games or whatever, but that's a lie boys tell so nothing is ever their fault. I didn't put myself out there with Jasper, but I wasn't coy with him either. I'm not that mysterious. My face displays every emotion I feel at that precise moment, and Jasper would have to be stupid to not know I felt rejected by him.

He tried to make amends on the ride home, by telling jokes and making promises about the future he'll never keep. I was gracious, nodding and smiling, but I kept replaying the evening over in my head.

I could still feel the electricity in my lips, where he teased me by being so close, but never making that final, lasting connection. It didn't matter how many times I rubbed them to get the memory out, they tingled with want. Like most things in my body whenever I was around him.

Whatever, I don't care.

He's leaving in four days. He'll be out of my life and I can forget about him. That's probably best. He's too old for me—not to mention Dad's drug dealer. There are too many cons to rationalize the pros.

_But his smile..._

Maybe he's not that into me, and that's fine, I get it, but just say so, damn it!

Don't flirt with me, or touch me, or act like you're going to kiss me under the freaking stars?

That's cruel and not cool.

And it's not like I'm asking for much. Just a clear cut statement that tells me exactly what kind of relationship Jasper wants. He defines it, but at least I get to choose whether or not it's something I can do or want to do.

"_And why didn't you tell him this_?" Rose asks.

My best friend is a mere five hours and hundreds of miles away from me, but it's like she's on the other side of the continent. I want to be home in Arizona with her. I want to be crying over Jasper in her room and on her bed with that fluffy _Dior_ comforter pulled up to my chin and a big pint of chocolate mint ice cream in my face. But no, I'm here in Laguna instead, squatting on some steps outside my father's apartment.

"Because he's leaving in a few days and I don't want to be that chick, you know?" I sigh with exaggeration and brush off some remaining sand on my leg.

"_What chick_?"

"You know, the clingy girl, the one who gets all weird and needy with a guy she's known for only a week."

"_Oh, that's crap, and you know it."_

"How is that crap?"

"_Because you didn't even know Marcus, but you still followed that geek around school for three months and did everything for him without actually getting on your knees to suck his dick in homeroom_."

I laugh, but keep it low. Dad is probably awake and I don't want him to know I'm here. The more time I can spend avoiding judgment the better. The calls and texts stopped about an hour ago, but his last message to me sent a clear warning. I'm in deep shit.

"Yeah, well, that shows how much you know," I whisper. "I totally sucked his dick in homeroom—and your mom's bathroom!"

"_Eww, you slut_," Rose snorts.

I can see her face so clearly, all scrunched up with disgust, but even still, she's beautiful.

Model even.

Tall, curvy, and stacked, Rose has an older woman quality guys of all ages go crazy for. She's so pretty and blonde, you would write her off as a Scottsdale snob like me, but Rose is first class AJ trash and got the sticky fingers to prove it. Two dysfunctional souls like ours could only meet in the backroom of Dillard's waiting for the cops and our parents to come pick us up.

I got caught stealing some shoes and she got caught with something expensive, like _Gucci_ or whatever.

"_Come on now. Quit the bullshit. What's the real reason?"_

It drives me nuts how well she knows me, but she doesn't feed me insincerities to pacify me. If I'm acting like a bitch, she'll tell me. We told each other, hurt feelings or not, truth is always first in our friendship. Growing up surrounded by hypocritical liars, it is a breath of fresh air we both so desperately sought.

"He's older than me."

"_So_?"

"So, that's why I could do those things with Marcus and not Jasper. I could be my age and not feel stupid or immature. We were on the same level and…"

"_And Marcus was a geeky virgin with mommy issues?"_

"Yeah, okay, whatever—_you_ didn't like him. Can we move on now?"

"_Yes, I'm sorry, go on."_

"With Jasper, I want to be seen differently by him. I don't want to come off as sixteen. I want to be a cool, badass chick that doesn't pick at and dissect the things he says. The kind of girl guys chase because she's so indifferent she's unattainable." I bend over and rest my forehead on my knees. "Ugh, I don't even have a driver's license. I'm, like, the poster child of statutory rape."

"_Well, you are sixteen and you can't get around that."_

"What astute observation there, Rose. How is this supposed to help me?"

"_I'm just saying, it sounds like the age thing is more of your hang up than it is his."_

"Then why didn't he kiss me?"

"_Why didn't you kiss him_?"

"Because…"

"_Because what? You want to excuse yourself from any fault but blame everything on him? How is that equal? He's gone ninety percent of the way since you've meant him. What have you done? Show up? If you don't want to seem sixteen, stop acting like it and grow some woman balls. Because a woman, Bells, she would've kissed him."_

I replay what happened on the beach with my Rose-colored lenses and I see it for what it truly was. Jasper didn't reject me, I rejected him. He held my face and put his lips to mine, all he was waiting for was me to tell him it was okay and make the last move. If I wasn't such a coward and a taker, I would've known to cross that centimeter of distance, but I hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. He took it as a clear indication that I didn't want to be kissed and backed off.

"Ugh!" Throwing my head back, I want to scream because of my immaturity and stupidity. "Why did you tell me that? It's not like I can go back and change it."

"_I'm not going to lie to you._"

"I know, I know. Now I just feel…ugh. Fuck!"

This I say too loud and it carries through the apartment complex, echoing off stucco walls and windows. I clap my hand over my mouth and stare at the door to Dad's house. Rose is laughing at me because she knows what I've done.

"Maybe he didn't hear me," I say under my breath, but my time alone is ending because I watch in slow horror as the door creaks open and Dad peeks out. He sees me on the stairs, turning from a calm, curious demeanor into one that's all too familiar and straight from my past.

"You, inside, right now," he says to me, teeth clenched together, and the sound of it all is unnerving.

"Gotta go, Rose."

She is saying something, but I hang up on her. Dad doesn't take his eyes off me the entire way from the stairs and into the apartment. The air is free of smoke, giving new rise to the dust and dirt on his furniture. I know right then he's sober and not chill (which means nothing good for me).

The door slams, shaking the walls and causing a framed picture of me to fall to the floor.

I shudder at the omen.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dad grabs my arm and spins me around. He's red from the neck up and his brown eyes are crazed. "Huh? Do you realize what time it is?"

Shrinking back, I regress into a terrified child getting scolded for spilled milk. "No, sir."

"I was going out of my mind, Kid…" His anger subsides, and his hard features soften. "Do you realize how worried you made me? I thought you were dead or I don't know what."

"I'm sorry, Dad, I didn't mean to worry you. I was out with a friend and—"

"Jasper? Right? You were with him, weren't you?"

I try to deny it with a shake of my head, but he knows better. There is a tired, weariness in his face from years and years as a cop and it has taken its toll on him.

"I told him you were off limits." He releases his grip on my arm and rubs the anger creases from his forehead. He's speaking to me, but mostly all the mumbling is him thinking out loud. "A twenty-two year old man has no business messing with a sixteen year old girl."

He's right, everything about being with Jasper is wrong and illegal, but making him forbidden increases the need to fight against authority. There's an inner rebellion burning inside of me. It's why I quit ballet and piano. It's why I steal shit. The Isabella that everyone expects me to be, all perfect and everything, is not who I am or who I'll ever be.

I'm a mess, destroyed by Renee and Charlie's grand expectations for their little swan.

And so I lie to my father in order to protect what's mine.

"I wasn't with him, okay?"

"Really?" Dad grabs the hood of my sweater and sniffs it. "Then why do reek of his weed?"

I jerk away from and take a couple steps back. "I said I wasn't with him!"

Dad is not stupid, not by far, and I haven't been all that secretive. The first couple of days, I was careful, making up clever alibis, and he was none the wiser. But then I got cocky and sloppy, taking his newly laid back role as Stoner Charlie for granted.

I have only myself to blame for this.

"It doesn't matter if you were with him or not, you're going to stop seeing him right now, young lady. Do you understand me?"

"You can't tell me who I can be friends with."

"Yes, I can. Jasper is six years older than you. It's inappropriate, Bella. As long as you're under my roof, you will abide by my laws. If you continue to see this boy against my wishes, I'll be forced to press charges."

He drops this bomb and walks away.

It takes me a few seconds to recover from the shock of his threats. But when I do, I am livid, and go storming after him in the living room like a raging bull. He's sitting on the couch, packing his bong with Jasper's weed. It's a slap to my face with his overwhelming hypocritical bullshit.

"You can't do that, Dad. Jasper didn't do anything!"

"Yeah, maybe not now, but he will." He laughs, like I'm so naïve and I can imagine patting me on the head. "You don't think he's thought about it? You're a beautiful, young girl, Bella. Of course he has. But I won't allow it. Not with my daughter." The bong is stuffed and ready to be burned. He checks his pockets for a lighter. "You're never to see him again. That's not a request. That's an order. End of story."

"And what if I refuse to abide by your laws?"

"Excuse me?"

I snatch up the bong before he can get his grubby hands on it. "You can't decide to be sober for an hour and then try to dictate my life, Charlie. That's not how parenting works."

"It's Dad,'" he corrects me.

"Since when?"

He grimaces at the dig and nods. "Fine, take the chance and cross me on this, but I will throw him in jail if he lays one finger on you."

This is a promise he thinks he'll keep, but I know him better than he knows himself.

"Go ahead and do what you have to do, but I want you to think long and hard about who you're really threatening, Charlie." I set the bong back down and toss him a baggie of Jasper's specially grown weed. "I'm going to bed."

***()()***

Days pass after that night and there is no contact from Jasper. He heads off to school without saying a single word. Rose tells me over and over again that I need to call him, but I'm too much of a wimp to do anything. My moment with him has passed.

It's over.

Besides, I have too much going on with Charlie. He doesn't discuss his terms and conditions regarding the boy he forbids me to see, because he knows he's won by default. All that fighting and arguing is water under on the bridge to us now. My stoner dad is back to smoking and toking every day and every night. He raves about Jasper's weed and can't get enough.

It's really good quality stuff, but as my last desperate plea of a peace offering, it was poorly executed and used too soon. That baggie was my only leverage against Dad and only connection with Jasper.

Every minute without him is worse than the last. He keeps on fading away from my mind like the morning tide.

I need to get over him and move on…or at least pretend to.

One day in August, Charlie came into my room and announced to me that I needed to get registered for school. It was starting the following Monday and I had to get supplies or whatever. Like I really was going to commit myself to education, but I agreed because what else am I supposed to do?

But damn, being the new girl is not fun. Kids treat you like a freak and I spend all my lunch periods eating in the bathroom. After a few weeks of purgatory, I start hanging out with Alice. She's six months older than me and pretty messed up in the head. Mild bipolar disorder mixed with daddy issues gives her a reckless outlook and a serious passion for prescription drugs. She's rich and bored (which basically means, she's up for just about anything).

Alice is a wild child with mad connections. She can get us into any clubs and the V.I.P rooms, hanging out with glitzy celebrities and drinking gallons upon gallons of expensive champagne. She keeps me occupied and my mind off Jasper.

But out of everything I do to forget him, surfing is my one love and true therapy.

Every day after school, I go to the beach and ride the ocean. Nothing bothers me out there. All my troubles seem insignificant. Things around me slowly start to change. My skin is tan now due to the constant exposure to the sun, but that's not the only thing about me that's different. On a whim one Saturday afternoon, I venture into the salon and have them dye my hair blonde.

Alice, of course, made fun of me and said I was a carbon copy of every bimbo here, but I didn't give a shit what she thought. I liked my hair. It's wasn't all that drastic. A few highlights here and there, but the sun does the majority of the work.

This is my life in Laguna without Jasper. It doesn't suck, actually it's pretty good, but I know what it could be. I got a glimpse of the other side of things and the grass is _definitely_ greener.

I do get occasional texts from him, but they're brief and he talks about school. He's busy, from what I can gather. No partying or girls (or so he says) but he's on schedule to graduate early. This causes some excitement in me, I want to see him, but things are awkward between us and not the same as they were before the near-kiss.

But I am still crazy about him, and even seeing his words on my screen is never enough. I miss him more than my heart can take and it's too painful at times. What's best for me is to cut off all ties with him. No calls, no texts, just quit him cold turkey.

And I do by changing my number.

Time continues to pass in a blur and days turn into weeks and weeks into months. I'm starting to forget about the way he smells or the color of his eyes.

Everything is mundane and blah, but manageable.

Then on my birthday in September, I get a large package in the mail. It has no return address, but the object wrapped in brown paper is oblong and five feet tall. I know what it is and who it's from even without having to open it.

I haul it into the house and propped it up against my bedroom wall. For a solid hour, I stared at the thing, debating with myself and trying to build up the courage to see what was inside. Finally, I just decide to get it over with and peel back the wrapping.

It literally takes my breath away.

The surfboard is a deep blue color, with black and purple splashed in and glossed over with countless stars. The entire sky from that night on the beach is painted on this board. I reach out and glide my fingers over the beautiful, customized art work. It's what he promised me and the impossible is within my grasp. Nothing was pretend with him and everything was real.

Sadly, I can think of only one thing…

_I should've kissed him._

***()()***

A couple more months pass and it's Thanksgiving night. Alice has dragged me to another party. It's one of the biggest events in Laguna. It happens every year. She says I'm lucky to know her, because only exclusive people are invited and she's my ticket. I'm just going along for the weed. She promises me there will be plenty of it.

"This year is better because we have one of our tribe members coming home. He's in the Navy and been away for awhile, but now he's here and this party is for him…_mostly_," Alice says and drives up to the gate.

It's dark, but the surroundings are all too familiar. I've been here before with Charlie. It was my first stop in Laguna.

_Damn it_.

This is Jasper's house.

A memory, long ago, one I'd shoved deep in the pits of my misery, is brought back to the surface. He said something about his infamous Thanksgiving hooplas, but told me so many times he wasn't going to do it this year. School was going to be hell and his parents were going to be in town. All these excuses he gave me sound like lies now.

"Um," I fidget in my seat, "I think maybe we should skip this and go somewhere else."

Alice gawks at me, unblinking and confused. "Have you even been listening to me? This is _the _event."

I don't want to tell her the sad history of the boy under the stars, but I can't see him like this—not now, not ever.

"Look, just drive me home and you can come back. I'm just not feeling good, you know? Bad shellfish and all that." I grab my stomach for the added effect and to drive my bullshit home, but Alice is a selfish bitch and waves off my poorly conceived ailment.

"No, I am not driving your ass home. You're going to this party whether you want to or not." She hammers in the code into keypad and the gate opens. I don't want to think about why she has the security code to Jasper's house. "Trust me, go in have a few drinks and a couple hits of weed, coke, whatever you're into and you'll be fine. You'll thank me later."

"Right," I say, pulling down the visor and fixing my make-up in the vanity mirror. "I look like shit."

In my laziness and haste, I'd put on the bare minimum of gold eye shadow and clear lip gloss. Not that I wear a lot to begin with, but I would have put more effort into my appearance if I would've known I was going to see Jasper tonight.

"You look great," Alice assures me, but I think she's talking about herself as she blots on more red lipstick.

She's the most unique looking person I've ever seen. With wide eyes set against small facial features, and smooth, porcelain skin, Alice looks like a freaking doll. Her hair is black and cut bluntly to her chin. She's shorter than me, but is a spit-fire, and what she lacks in stature, she makes up for with a harsh tongue and sadistic sense of humor.

It's easy to like her and hate her at the same time.

"Here, this should help you loosen up." Alice opens a silver compact and displays a bunch of little white pills. "It's Ativan."

I think it over for about a second before deciding. "What the hell, right?"

Popping two of them in my mouth, I unbuckle my seat belt and get out. The front drive-way is packed with cars, mostly high-end models like Mercedes and Porsche. Tons and tons of people are coming in and out. It's hectic, and the mansion looms over me with its bright Christmas lights and decorative wreath on the door. It doesn't match the thumping techno music pouring from inside, but it's festive and that pisses me off.

"Well, let's get this over with," I say and hook my arm with Alice's.

We walk into the main entryway and floods of memories nearly topple me over. It's like seeing a movie for the second time, but you're different and things don't feel the same. There are so many bodies to squeeze through and my ass gets grab numerous times by unknown persons.

This is whole scene is the opposite of fun. I want to escape this place, but I'm stuck. Alice pulls me around the house, and I am on the constant lookout for Jasper. He's nowhere to be found. It's both a relief and a disappointment. I'm conflicted with what I actually want, because seeing him again after all these months will heal me, but yet destroy me too. The being destroyed part will overshadow any of the healing I may get from seeing him and leave me a slobbering mess.

There is no way in hell I'm going to fall apart that way. Not in front of him. I need space and time to think. But Alice doesn't understand. She's high as a kite and in her party girl mode.

I get my chance when she releases her grip on me to do some shots. Running out of the kitchen, I bolt upstairs and hide in the nearest bathroom. My throat is closed and I can't seem to get air into my lungs. Everything is falling to pieces. My focus dims, going in and out on me. I'm dizzy now, swaying from side to side.

Sitting down on the toilet, I put my head in between my legs and gasp like a flailing fish. Thoughts and memories of him are out of my control. Flashes of his smile, his laugh, and the touch of his hands make me want to scream. I'm trying to talk myself out of this self-induced panic with a simple mantra.

"He's just a boy," I rock back and forth, "just a beautiful, incredible boy."

I'm frozen in time, rocking like a crazy person, until the Ativan finally decides to kick into gear. It's a fast high. The calm I need comes over me with a rush. I breathe in deep, settling my nerves and stopping the quake in my hands.

Standing up, I go over to the mirror and laugh. What a freaking mess. My make-up is screwed. There are two black tears running down my cheeks and my eyes are all puffy and red.

"Get yourself together." I grab a wash rag and wet it under the sink.

Wiping away my brief stint with insanity, I start to feel like myself again. It's stupid to let a boy get me this worked up. So what if we haven't seen each other in months, I've been doing okay, right? I've got my friends (well, one friend) and my surfing.

Things are going good without him. I survived.

I grin at my reflection, fluffing my hair over my shoulders and dabbing more gloss on my lips. There is a lazy gaze in my eyes, like I'm drunk, but I don't really care at this point. Slipping on my sandals I discarded at the door, I go back out to join the party. The second floor is quiet and has less people roaming around. I follow the smokey haze to a side room. It's got couches and a flat screen television on the wall. There are three to four people in here. I pick a vacant spot and plop down. A girl with wild red hair passes me a joint. It's Jasper's weed, I know it from the smell, but the first inhale convinces me. There is no one in Laguna that can grow the herb like my boy can.

Dad tells me this every day as he smokes the gutter shit.

But this is even better than I remember.

"Wow." I close my eyes and fall back into the sofa.

The room spins around me and the chatter slowly fades away. My mind drifts off to sandy beaches and black skies riddled with diamonds. He's there, holding my hand and pointing.

_Touch one_, _Bean_, he says. _Nothing is out of your reach_.

I do as he says because I'm in love with him. He smiles as I stretch my arm out towards the stars, but as soon as I feel it underneath my fingertips it vanishes. Everything goes dark. He's ripped away from me and the dream with him that will never be is gone.

"Don't go!" I open my eyes with a start and sit up. My heart is thundering out of my chest and I'm not sure where I am. Searching the room, I recognize my surroundings as Jasper's house, but see that everyone has left, except for one guy.

He's next to me on the couch, a foot or so away, wearing a blue t-shirt with _Navy Seals_ written across the front. His hair is buzzed like a military cut, but long enough to be considered grown out. He's cute, from this angle, strong jaw hidden beneath a week old scruff. The profile on him would be perfect if it wasn't for the scars. He's got a couple. One is pretty thick and looks like a caterpillar below his right eye. Then there are two more scars, long and jagged on the side of his neck.

The guy is rough looking, dangerous even, and I scoot away from him on a survivor's instinct.

He smirks, but doesn't look at me. "I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried," I say, but the tremble in my voice defies me.

"Good to know."

Following the tattoos of blue waves and blacks skulls down his muscular arms, I spot a knife in his hand. He's whittling a piece of drift wood. Flakes of it fall on the floor into a pile. The panic from earlier rises up again and I draw my knees up to my chest.

I don't know who this guy is, but I do know he wasn't here when I sat down. Seeing as I can't keep my eyes off him now, he would be someone I would remember.

"How long you been here watching me sleep?"

"Not long," he says.

"How long?"

He scraps the knife's blade across the wood, slow and deliberate. "Thirty-three minutes and forty-six seconds."

"Really?"

He nods.

Damn, only one hit from Jasper's weed and puts me out for almost an hour? That doesn't seem right. Maybe the Ativan contributed and added to its sedative effect, but the fact that it did scares me. Now I am wondering what went on while I was sleeping.

"So, that's all you did was watch me?" I ask with suspicion dripping in my tone. It's obvious what I am really suggesting.

"Yes, because taking of advantage of unconscious women isn't something I do, okay?"

He finally turns his head to meet my gaze and stuns me with the fire and intensity of his eyes. They are an unusual green, like seaweed, but on the outer irises there's a hint of brown or yellow or even gold. Yes, it's definitely more gold than anything else. It's like staring into a peacock's feather. I am so mesmerized by his eyes and how insanely hot he is, I don't really catch that he's pissed at me.

All I can only do is whisper, "Okay."

"Okay." He gives me a quick once over and then goes back to chiseling the wood. There is a slight shake of his head and a chuckle.

The silence looms between us and I want to apologize for my assumptions. There is something about him that terrifies me, but then there is a feeling of safety. Like him being here while I slept was his way of protecting me, but I don't know why.

I lower my defenses and get closer to him on the couch. "I'm sorry, you know? I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't," he says as a huge chunk of wood is eradicated by his knife and falls with a thump to the floor.

"Okay, um, well, that's good to know. How about we start over?" I extend out my hand. "I'm Bella."

He stares at my offering for a moment, but doesn't respond. I am visibly shaking, biting the shit out of my lip as I wait for him to tell me to get lost or whatever. The guy is intimidating and he makes me nervous, but I'm not sure if it's because he's holding a weapon and could kill me or the fact I have this desire for him to press his blade into my throat. I stare at him, examining every line and feature on his face. He's beyond the calm ocean, but more like a turbulent river, sweeping me under with his strong, relentless current.

It's confusing to have these thoughts.

The last time I felt this strongly about someone they left me for college. This guy, God only knows how wrong he is for me, could be ten times worse of a break.

Maybe I don't care.

"Come on," I say, and take a chance by closing the distance and forcing my hand into his space. "It's not going to bite you."

He sets the mangled wood down on the table and closes the knife, slipping it away in his pocket. He wipes the chips and dust off his palms, rubbing them down the sides of his pants. He reaches over with his left hand and grasps my right, giving me a firm shake.

"Edward."

"Nice to meet you, Edward." I pull away, noting the tingle of his touch, and makes me wonder about his lips. Do they have the same lasting effect as his hands?

"Yeah, you too, Bella," he says and smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes and there is pain there, like he's holding back.

"So, you look like a man who appreciates good wood." I gesture to the lump on the table. It's hacked to death, no distinguishable features about it. "Do you whittle much?"

Edward laughs and picks it up to examine it. "Maybe I should practice more."

"Well, I don't know, it could be a lot of things." Weed makes me bold, and I move just a little more closer until our legs are touching. My hand goes over his as I take the wood away from him. "Like, a, um..." I'm trying to think, but his eyes are me and I can feel his breath waft over my neck. I want to be kissed by him, but it's conflicting, and everything about this night muddled with memories of a ghost. "I don't know, it's just hard, yeah?"

Edward brushes away some of hair and tilts his head to the side. "You remind me of someone."

I pull back to gain some space and much needed air. "Oh, really? Who?"

He studies me a little more. "I'm not sure."

But then everything gets really clear really fast as my past comes colliding into my present.

I hear the name before I see him at the door. My eyes are sore, but Jasper is as beautiful as the night he dropped me off. I glance back over at Edward and he's smiling from ear to ear. This time it's genuine and spans across his whole face. There is recognition in his eyes as he puts two and two together.

"Oh, so _you're_ his Bean."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Sorry for the late post. This chapter refused to be written. It's here now. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to all the readers and the people who've supported this fic: iDanceCullen, Annie Butts, Sunny, and many more.**

**Thanks to my pre-reader, Brina, who always has my writing back—no matter what!**

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Seven**

_I am __**his**__ Bean_ repeats over and over as I jump off the couch and go rushing into Jasper's arms. He catches me with an ''_oof_'', lifting me off the floor and hugging our bodies together so tight. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in as deep as I can—and just like that, a memory of our early days filled with sunshine, sandy beaches, and crystal blue waters, sparks the fading flame.

It burns bright.

"Hi," he says with a chuckle, adjusting and widening his stance so we don't go toppling over.

"Hi," I whisper against his skin. There is an accidental hint of him on my lips, throwing my mind into chaos. An overwhelming temptation comes over me and I want to dart out my tongue to get more of his taste, (all salty and sweet) but I push that thought away.

Because as high as I am, I know this is the closest we've ever been and I don't want to screw it up by overstepping boundaries.

Jasper sets me back down on my feet, but always maintains contact by steadying his hands on my hips. I brush the hair away from my face to get a good look at him and all the changes that's happened over the past three months.

He's gotten less sun, but also, he's grown out a mustache and goatee with his cheeks shaven—except for the side burns, which has expanded down to his jaw line. Alice calls it the _Van Dyke_. The majority of the guys in So-Cal are sporting this style.

I miss the clean-cut boy who greeted me into his home. That's all gone now. Jasper's a man, more so than ever, and it suits him.

At least he kept his dreads. I would really hate to see that part of him go.

"It's good to see you," he says with a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. There's deep seeded hurt there.

My heart drops. "What's wrong?"

"We're still friends, aren't we?"

"Of course we're still friends," I say, like that point is obvious.

"Then why did you change your number?"

I feel sick with shame as my impulsive actions and childish behaviors come back to haunt me. What I did that day in October was for self-preservation. I was scared of being hurt by him, so I pushed him away and made the move to let go first. Never once did I believe I'd see him again.

"Did I do something?"

"No, you didn't do anything." I grip his shirt and press my forehead to his chest. This is hard, because lying to him is the last thing I want to do, but right now the truth is much worse. "It's me, or Charlie—I don't know. He doesn't approve of us hanging out and went on a rage. He demanded that I never see you again and that I change my number…"

"Hey, hey," Jasper silences me by taking a hold of my face and forcing my head up to meet his sincere, empathetic gaze, "I understand."

He knew what I was saying was bullshit. Jasper knows me better than I know myself. He may not know why I disconnected my phone, but he knew Charlie wasn't the cause. He may be my father, and supposedly one of my legal guardians until I'm eighteen, but he can't make me do shit. I will lie and steal and cheat to have what I want. That has never changed. Jasper knows that, and this was his way of letting me off the hook.

I cover his hands with mine. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jasper grins, and leans down towards me.

My heart hammers with anticipation and all breathing in and out of my lungs cease. I wait for ten, _unbearable_, seconds for his lips to join mine, but they never do. Just like the night under the stars, something clicks over in that dutiful brain of his and he changes tactics. Dropping his hands from my face and down to my shoulders, he takes a step back. The foot of space between us is like an entire ocean, miles of cold and treacherous waters that we may never get across.

"I'm going to need your new number," he says.

Pushing my disappointment away with a large inhale, I put on my best game show smile and hand him my phone. "Here."

Jasper scrolls through my contacts. "You kept my number," he shakes his head, "and the picture."

"I couldn't delete you _completely_," I say, and I'm not sorry for that.

"No, you just made sure you deleted yourself out of my life _completely_."

That's a painful dig, but I take it because I deserve it. No matter what, I'm the one who wasted these months with him pouting like a brat. This regret of mine grows deeper the more I am near him.

"So," he gives me back my phone and gestures towards my hair, "what's with the blonde?"

"Oh, yeah, about that." I untangle the mop on my head by combing through it with my fingers. Dodging his curious eyes by looking down at my feet, I suddenly feel very bashful under his scrutiny. "Laguna has its ways, you know?"

"You've been baptized."

I jerk my head up. "Baptized?"

"Yeah, like you've entered our waters, seen the error of your Arizonian ways and now have become part of our tribe." He laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into a side hug. "All I'm saying is you look good, Bean. California suits you."

"Thanks," I say, and take pride in his statement, but I'm not sure why (considering how much I love and miss Arizona). Maybe it's because Jasper is epitome of California and resembling any sort of trait of his gets me closer to him.

"I see you two have met," Jasper says and redirects my attention to my protector with the knife.

Edward is sitting on the couch where I left him, but there is no blade in sight. He's on his phone and doesn't look up. There is a bluish tint to his face from the screen's display. It makes him look ethereal.

"Uh, yeah..." I don't know how to make our interaction sound innocent, so I downplay it. "We've met, like, sort of."

"Not Exactly." Edward's voice is gruff and accusatory. "She called herself Bella."

"But I am Bella."

"No," he says, glancing away from his phone and sets his eyes on me. They're narrowed in contempt, like he's going to whittle the skin off me with his knife, "_you're_ Bean."

I'm sure he feels like I led him on with the near kiss and all, but I refuse to apologize about my feelings for Jasper.

They're real and consume my heart. He's a beautiful, charming, and this undeniable calm force in my life. He's the single wave that crashes on to the shore and keeps my sanity afloat. Everything I want to be that's pure and wholesome is because of Jasper.

He makes sense.

But then there's this gnawing ache I have for Edward. It defies all reason and I hate him for it. This guy is not right for me. He would be nothing but a violent and destructive Tsunami in my life. This guy with the commanding green and possessive eyes poses a serious threat to my survival. If I don't get to high ground before he comes crashing on to my shore, I'll drown.

So, I put up my shields and snap.

"Why would I introduce myself that way to you?" I glare at him. "Only one person is allowed to call me that."

"Yeah," Edward says and looks back down at his phone, "I know."

I'm pissed at myself now, because this little fight between Jasper's best friend and his Bean is very telling. He's not dumb, not in the least, and he starts to put things together. I see the betrayal in his eyes and my guilt for my slutty behavior spikes—_g__ranted_, I am a free agent and can do what I want, but it's sobering.

I stammer out excuses like a cheater would."I swear, Jasp, nothing happened and I didn't know he was your Army friend, and…"

Edward is aware of existence again and scowls with hatred. "What did she call me?"

Jasper waves off the bulldog. "She met Navy, man."

This confuses me. "What did I say?"

Jasper leans down and whispers. "Calling someone Army when their in the Navy, or vice versa, is a huge no, no, Bean."

"You mean they're not all the same?"

"No, and definitely not to them."

I want to smack myself for being so ignorant, but my relationship with Jasper is the pressing issue.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" I put my hands on his stomach and walk him back to the door. We're out of Edward's earshot. "I know how this all might look to you and everything with your friend, but it's not what you think. There's nothing going on between—"

"Hey, this isn't on you, it's on me, all right?" He rubs my arms and smiles weakly. "You snooze, you lose."

***()()***

The thing with weed, Jasper's especially, is that any issue you have can be resolved. You're tense and stressed out? _Boom_! Smoke a bowl. You're in pain and Tylenol isn't working? _Boom!_ Smoke two bowls. You can't stop thinking about your guy's best friend (who clearly hates you)? Smoke a bowl with said life-ruiner—but not only that, you follow after him and put your lips on that damn mouthpiece just so you can swap spit.

Okay.

I'm high.

What are we talking about?

Oh, yeah, about how Edward and Jasper grew up.

They've been best friends since they were babies. They were brought into wealth. Jasper is old money. His family started a bank in the 1800's and have twenty branches spread across the world. Edward is the new kid on the block. The way his family came to build their empire is a bit sketchy. Edward hinted towards some illegal activity by saying that the Cullen's were a bunch of hustlers and swindlers.

_Money is money_, I say.

Being raised in Laguna isn't bad. The boys flourished in it. They did everything together. They went to the same school, did the same things, and surf the same waves. They were practically twins, sharing clothes, surf boards, and same ideal views of the world.

Then 9/11 happened. Edward lost his parents in the North Tower and formed a singular opinion, apart from Jasper.

All the beauty and innocence in this world was jaded by one event that gutted him. He became obsessed with war and the terror on America. He started carrying guns and fought left and right in school. He ended up putting a kid in the hospital, nearly killing him. That would've been the end of Edward and he would've gone to jail, but Jasper's parents paid the family off with a nice, cool 1.2 million sum.

That was a heavy burden on Edward. Indebted for life, he decided to get out of town. The day of his and Jasper's graduation, Edward skipped the ceremony and joined the Navy. He became a SEAL and was shipped off to the Middle East within a span of four months.

This was 2008.

Every odd year or so, Edward would come home, more different than the last. Being a solider changed him in ways that Jasper didn't want to see. The kid from Laguna Beach with the greenest, wholesome eyes is damaged now. There is sadness to Edward. The behind the scenes view he has on this world and its evil is something that can't be unseen.

"Violence is a parasite," Edward says. "It slips inside you, infects you, mutating, and slowly killing every part of your soul until you're no longer who you were."

Jasper pats his friend's back. "But you're home now, man. You gotta leave all that shit behind you."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to need another one of these then." He tips back the last of his beer and slams the empty bottle on the table.

I shiver at the sound it makes.

There is something about Edward and his ferocious behavior that excites every damn nerve ending in my body—and that mouth of his…those lips, and how is tongue occasionally comes out and sweeps across them, making them wet and glistening.

I think about him in between my thighs, placing a kiss on the sensitive skin, working his way up and licking me in one long stroke.

But I have to stop myself.

It's wrong to think these things.

"How about I go and get us all another round?" Jasper put his hand on my knee and pulls me out of my thoughts. "And while I am down there, I think it's time to kick these worthless bums out of my house. Do you have to go home or can you hang out some more?"

I sit up in a panic as my stomach flutters and chest tightens. "You mean just the three of us?"

"Yeah…" Jasper pauses and gets down to my level, searching my eyes and sensing my discomfort, "is that okay? Do you have a curfew or something?"

My mind quickly goes over the worst-case scenario of being alone with these two boys. One hates me, this I know, but the other one only see's me as a friend. I doubt anything bad or salacious is going to happen. It's a bit disappointing, but I take it because I crave to be by Jasper's side…and Edward, (I take a quick peek at him over my shoulder) well, he smells good and is nice to look at.

So in spite of the little nagging voice inside telling me this is not a good idea, I put on a brave face and agree. "No, yeah, of course it's okay. Charlie thinks I'm staying the night with Alice anyway."

_Alice! Shit!_

I totally forgot about her. It's been several plus hours since I left her in the kitchen. Is she still even here? Knowing that girl, she's found a guy to hook up with and stranded me. It wouldn't be the first time.

"All right." Jasper stands and pulls me up with him. He gives me a hug and I cling to him by fisting the back of his shirt. "It's really good to see you, Bean. I'm glad you came."

"Yeah, me too," I say and fight off the tears that want to roll. It's silly and naïve of me to really believe I could survive without him. He's my everything.

"Just give me twenty minutes to clear this place out, okay?" He finally releases his hold over me and heads for the door. "Keep an eye on her, man."

Edward salutes him. "Will do, Sarge."

Jasper leaves the room and I am alone with the Tsunami. The quake below the surface is getting stronger, building up the impending wave, and I know it's going to erupt if I don't say something to ease the situation. It would be much easier if I hadn't insulted him with calling him 'Army'. Which, to be honest, I still didn't entirely get why it was such an offensive comment.

"Hi." I sit back down next to Edward on the couch, but there is more than an arm length between us. "Um, listen, I just want to apologize to you for what happened."

"Nothing happened, Bella," he says, short and sweet and to the point.

He stands up from the couch and goes over to one of the many cabinets that occupy the room. There is liquor and snacks in a few of them, but his main focus are the cabinets filled with the water bongs and smoke pipes. He scans the selection, eventually deciding on the purple bong.

That's my favorite color.

I try not to think much of his choice, but among bongs with skulls and superheroes, I know he got that bong for me. It's too girly.

When he sits back down, he's closer than before and our knees are touching. It's distracting, but I push through it and get my damn apology out.

"Look," I say with an exasperated sigh, "I know that, _technically_, nothing happened, but it _would_ have happened if Jasper hadn't come into the room."

"Hand me that baggie," he says, and his forearm brushes across my chest as he points to the right of me.

Ignoring the fact he just felt me up, I reach over and grab the weed for him. He starts preparing the bong for us and I fill the silence with chatter. "I just don't want you to think that I was using you to get back at Jasper or that…"

"What?" Edward pulls out a lighter from his jeans and pushes the bong towards me.

"All I'm trying to say is that, I wanted to and if it wasn't for…" _God,_ why is this so hard? I put my lips to the bong and watch as Edward's flame flickers and lights the bowl stuffed with green, superb weed. It turns into a ball of illuminating cherry, creating smoke that rushes into my lungs. I cough from the burn. "Shit."

Edward laughs and pulls the bong back towards him. He takes a big hit and holds it in, showing me up. "You're Jasper's girl. I get it. He doesn't have to know." He shrugs. "Besides, you were high. Chronic has a way of doing that."

"But that's just the thing. I'm _not_ Jasper's girl. We're friends and…" I don't say anymore, because I'm not sure what I am doing or what I am trying to make Edward believe. I'm taken, whether Jasper ever comes around to the idea or not. He owns every part of my heart and that's the end of it. "It's complicated."

"Not on his end, it isn't."

I take another, deeper inhale, getting the tingles from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Nothing is off limits now. Every thought and frustration of mine becomes a spoken word.

"What is it to him then, because I have no clue? He says we're friends and then he acts like he wants to kiss me, but never does."

"Wait, hold on." Edward blows the smoke out and shoves the bong aside. We've depleted the entire bowl. He shifts closer to me on the couch, practically lying on top of me, our faces an inch from touching. "He hasn't kissed you?"

"No, I mean, well, maybe." It's suddenly very hot in here and I can't think straight. My voice trembles, coming out all mixed-up. "There was this one time on the beach where I thought he might, but I messed it up and—"

"You fucking pussy!" Edward yells and startles me. I look up to see Jasper frozen at the door. "You haven't kissed her?"

My eyes go wide as the scene unravels in slow motion before me. I can't undo what has already been done. It's mortifying. I want to run away from this place and die in peace with my shame. This conversation was never intended to reach Jasper's ears, but Edward has got a big mouth.

Now I am left on an island of humiliation by myself, bent over and hiding my flustered, heat-filled face in my hands.

"I tried," I hear Jasper say, and then a second later the cushion to my right moves and bounces with some added weight. I can feel his eyes boring into me. "A few times, _actually_, but Bean has this way of scaring the shit out of me."

"Fear holds you back, brother," Edward says, and I sense his arm reach over me and pass something to Jasper.

I am stuck between two men I want and desire for different reasons, but it feels the same. The prickly thorns of a rose to my left will puncture my skin and leave me bleeding, while the soft, adoring petals to my right will heal me from the inside out.

But what sucks the most about being caught in the middle is neither part of the rose is mine.

"Yeah, maybe." Jasper bends down and pushes the curtain of hair away from my face. "You set the rules, Bean. You tell me how far you want this to go?"

I feel my age, seventeen and terrified. It's contrary to the affect the weed usually has over me. Where is the bold Bean? Why does she choose this time to hide and leave me to fend for myself? I could kiss Jasper right now. That's what he's asking, but there is something else in this room that is a speed bump. I don't know what it is until he speaks up.

"All right, enough of this shit." Edward gets up from the couch and pushes the coffee table aside with his foot. He picks up the rug and exposes the hardwood flooring underneath. "Let's play a game."

Jasper glances at me with confusion, silently asking me if I knew what was going on, and I shake my head. It's his best friend. He should know him better than me.

"What are you talking about, man?" Jasper asks.

"I'm taking it out of your hands and leaving it to fate." Edward grabs the empty beer bottle from the table and puts it on the floor. With a flick of his wrist, it spins and spins, and then comes to a slow stop. It points at me. "You're up, Bella." Edward holds his hand out to me. "Wanna play?"

"Are we all playing?" I give Edward my hand, but peek over at Jasper. He looks hesitant; rubbing the back of his neck as he internally weighs the pros and cons.

"Why not? I ain't got shit to do," Edward pulls me up from the couch and we both sit down on the floor.

I stare up at Jasper, waiting for him to make a move towards us or the door. This is the moment of truth for him. I don't know what I want him to do. In a way, if he agrees to play spin the bottle, he's agreeing to let his best friend kiss me. It's a game of Russian roulette, but in our twisted version, hearts and feelings are at risk of being shot down and killed.

"Please," I say under my breath, but Jasper hears me and that's all it takes for him to commit.

"Fine," he says and sits next to me. "But no tongues like last time, man."

_Like last time_? How often do they play this game?

"I can't promise anything, bro," Edward says and winks at Jasper.

"Shut up and spin the bottle, asshole." Jasper laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. The smile he gives me and the soft, tender pat on my leg puts me at ease.

We're okay.

This is okay.

"I think Bella should have the honor of doing the first spin," Edward says.

Both of these boy's eyes are on me. That male attention is powering. I feel sexy. Never in my life have I ever felt this desired. Maybe it's my own imagination going into overdrive with wishful thinking. But when my hand touches that bottle, I can see the anxiety and anticipation in their bodies.

This is a game horny teenager's play, but I am using it as a tool to get what I want without having to own up to it. It's the bottle's decision. I have to kiss you.

What a fabulous device.

"All right," I say and glance up at the boys. "No take backs."

They both nod, submitting to wherever it lands. I give it a hard twist and it spins at a fast speed, making a clunking sound on the wood. For twenty, long, tortuous, seconds, we all watch that damn bottle, wondering where it would stop. I hope it lands on Jasper, but then again, I hope it lands on Edward.

Finally it slows and slows until the long neck of the beer bottle stops on Jasper. Nobody moves, because it's real now. I know it's up to me to kiss him. That's the burden of being the spinner. You can't sit back and wait for it to happen to you.

"Okay." I turn to Jasper, but he's already there and his hands are on my face. He pulls me closer, and I grab a hold of his wrists, inhaling deep as he kisses me.

His lips are soft, unhurried. He's gentle, giving a peck at first, moving to a firmer kiss. It stops everything: my heart, my breath, and time. In those few seconds, I can feel how much he cares for me—and this is not how you kiss a girl you've only wanted to be friends with.

I want more and push myself into him, but Jasper doesn't push things too far with me. It's a sweet and a modest kiss. It's an example of who he is and what we'll be together.

I am in a daze when he's done, my eyes sluggish to open to find his staring back at me. He leans away, but keeps his hands in place (which are now intertwined in my hair).

"Sorry it's taken me this long to do that," he says and kisses me again, but it's chaste and Edward causes a fuss.

"Hey! One kiss per spin!"

"Yeah, yeah," Jasper says, continuing his spin and it lands on Edward.

I laugh, quickly clamping my hands over my mouth. They're still, neither one wanting to make the first move. It's entertaining to see these two boys, all manly and such, having to kiss. And they're clearly uncomfortable.

It's more funny than erotic.

"Come on, guys," I tease, nudging them both. "It's just one kiss. I won't tell anybody."

"Just get over with," Edward waves Jasper forward, "before I lose my nerve and punch you."

"Yeah, you just remember who started this shit," Jasper says and leans over me. He stops abruptly and warns Edward one last time. "No tongue, man."

"We'll see what happens." Edward closes his eyes. "Just fucking do it, you pussy."

"Jackass." Jasper huffs and shakes his head.

This is all amusing and hilarious to me…until, well…until they _actually_ kiss.

It's not long or quick, not as in depth or deliberate, but still kind of hot. I am shocked by the tingle and yearning it causes. Two beautiful boys, (who I assume are straight) kissing right in front of me is a wonderful fucking thing. I am mesmerized by Jasper's lips, so soft and fluent, and how they move against Edward's rigid ones. There is no tongue or anything, but when Jasper is done and shifts back to his spot on the floor besides me, I whimper a little.

A large part of me wanted more from them.

"Your spin," Jasper says and pushed the bottle across the floor.

It rolls and hits Edward's knee. "That was a good kiss, bro."

Jasper flips him off. "Spin the damn bottle."

Without another word or snide remark, Edward twirls the bottle and around it goes. Where it stops, nobody knows. It seems like forever and a day for that stupid thing to make a decision. I am undecided about the possible outcome. Having the two boys kiss again would be _amazing_.

Edward seems like the aggressive type.

Then again, I want to know what he tastes like or how his lips feel.

It's all a win, win for me, really.

And I _rarely_ get to say that.

Then the bottle stops, I hear Jasper cuss under his breath and Edward chuckle.

When I look down, I see it pointing at me.

"Shit," I blurt out.

Edward takes this the wrong way. "You don't have to."

"No," I say and whip my head towards him. "It's the rules of the game."

"All right," he says and puts his hands on my neck. He yanks me towards him, but off to the side, where his mouth is on my ear. He whispers. "I don't do gentle."

I don't get a breath in or out before he attacks my mouth. It throws me off guard, even though he'd warned me. Rough and passionate, he presses his lips into mine, tasting like beer and weed, but I can't get enough. The force of his kiss pushes me backwards and I have to prop out my hands behind me to stay upright.

He bites my lips, sucking them into his mouth. Every part of my body reacts to him. Bursting into an uncontrollable flame, I try asserting myself into the kiss and take back some control, but he's too much of dominate force. He easily overpowers me. His teeth graze my chin, pulling me deeper into him as he squeezes my neck.

Gasping for air, he jerks me back up and releases me.

My mind is spinning.

Opening my eyes, I see Edward smirking at me, unapologetic and cocky. He's proving a point, which I get loud and clear.

"You're spin, Bella," he says, flicking the bottle towards me.

"Um," I tenderly feel my lips. They're swollen and painful to the touch. I look back over at Jasper, but he's not pissed. Not like as I expected. His blue waves of calm are on Edward's chaotic storm green. They are talking with each other, nodding and gesturing. It's a language and bond I don't understand. It all becomes too much for me. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Jasper quickly stands and helps me to my feet. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, you know how it is, too much fun and all." I give him a winning, proper, well-to-do debutante smile I learned in etiquette school. "Give me five minutes?"

Jasper says sure, even though he knows something is wrong, and Edward is concerned, but gives off the air of indifference. I'm not sure what spooked me. All I know is I need air and a space—away from them!

Rushing out of the room, I stop a few doors down in the hallway and lean my head against the wall. My heart is a hectic beat, matching my breathing, which is labored and short. I can feel the blood pulsating and surging through my veins.

There is the excitement and arousal growing with memories of Jasper and Edward and how they each affect me differently.

It's nothing like I've ever experienced before. How can I want to be with two people, both equally and separately?

It's confusing, and I am not old enough or qualified for this kind of juggling.

"Shit. Fuck. Damn it!" I bang my head against the wall, hoping to knock some sense into it.

Yes, this is stupid and dangerous. I should know better. These beautiful, gorgeous, and brilliant boys are going to destroy my heart, leave me bleeding and aching with pain.

They're going to ruin me.

But…(I smile and touch my raw, throbbing lips)…with kisses like that, I will gladly let them.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hope everyone had a happy holiday. I want to thank all the readers and reviewers of this story. You guys are awesome and rock my socks off. I can't express how grateful I am for the support. As usual, these ladies (iDanceCullen, Kninut, Sunny, and Brina) stay on my arse to update...and usually **_**right**_** after I update. This story is for you and our love for the movie Savages.**

**And a special, heartfelt thank you to my pre-reader, Brina. She's better than peanut butter fudge—and that shit is delicious.**

**Chapter Eight**

Maybe it's the chronic (as Edward calls it) or my willingness to risk it all, but I decide fairly quickly what I want. The bold side of me comes out in spades and I walk into that room with a goal. The boys welcome me back with smiles, although one is more suppressed than the other, but I make a point to sit right between them. This is where I need to be and that is where I stay.

More weed is smoked, finishing off two bowls within a span of an hour. Then there is beer, but I don't drink. The chronic is already messing with me. The bottle on the hardwood floor is aching to be spun and I'm the first to reach for it, giving it a fling, and it twirls, and twirls and twirls until it lands on Jasper.

He doesn't hesitate to kiss me and this time is different. It's deeper, but still soft and lingering. The care and adoration in his lips makes my whole body sigh. Whenever he touches me, (no matter how chaste and insignificant) I know he'll do whatever to keep me safe and protected.

Jasper embodies everything that's decent and perfect. He'll make me a better person and teach me how to appreciate the world. We'll change it together.

He's the humble peace within me.

By this time, the weed hits me nice and hard. The rest of the evening is a blur. Only bits of pieces stick out and make an impression. My boys kissing are one the most memorable thing about this blessed Thanksgiving night.

It's a little hazy from all the endless smoke spilling from the bong, but I do remember the one rule Jasper made early in the night was broken. I'm the blame for it. Begging and pleading, I harass them both until they agree—and they do, because neither one of them can say no to me.

This part I see clearly in my mind (God knows I keep replaying it). Jasper moves across the imaginary line and approaches Edward. I get really close to them, damn near face to face, and watch with wide eyes as Jasper's kisses Edward again, but this time a wet, pink tongue slips out and touches the other. It's brief; quickly returning to its place, yet still the little bit leaves me struggling to breathe. I want to be a part of it, feel both of their tongues together and add my own, but don't have the guts to voice it. They break away, sit on opposite sides of the room, and continue on with the game.

Edward's spin stops and points at me.

This guy doesn't pretend to be anything but rough. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, taking handfuls of my hair and slamming our bodies together. It hurts: his rushed, forceful, and hectic kind of kiss, but I don't stop it. He makes me feel desired. Like he wants to rip my clothes right off my back and fuck me on this floor. Edward is full of brutality and will corrupt me from the inside out. I know this. It's in the way he squeezes my neck, cutting off my air and making me gasp for more.

He's the raging conflict within me.

I don't remember much after that. A few flashes of all three of us laughing, followed by Jasper's beautiful face smiling just for me and Edward's gorgeous scars under my fingertips, all bumpy and glorious. More sore lips and fluttering heart, I vaguely recall being carried to bed. A hand wisps across my forehead, warm and soft covers are pulled up to my chin, and a faint tickle of a soothing voice in my ear…

"Goodnight, Bean."

***()()***

The first thing I hear is the sounds of the crashing waves and chatty seagulls. The air around me smells like the fresh ocean with a hint of pancakes. It's a surprisingly delightful and comforting combination. The bed beneath me fills like a cloud. I roll over on my stomach and bury my nose in the pillows. All of it is reminisce of Jasper. I don't want to get up now. My dreams of kissing him were so real, I just want to go back to sleep and be there again. Charlie will be in my room soon, like a human alarm clock, but he can kiss my ass about school, because I'm not going.

_Wait._

My eyes fly open as last night's events steamroll themselves into memory.

_I didn't go home._

Reaching out and patting the mattress around me, I'm relieved to find it empty and cold. Okay, so I didn't do something stupid last night, like have sex with the boys. Not that I'd be opposed to such a thing, but not remembering every detail would be a bummer—like, never smoke weed again, kind of bummer.

And I'm way too much of a burner to give that shit up.

Rubbing the crust out of my eyes, I turn my head to the left and get a beautiful, breathtaking view of the ocean. The French doors to the patio are open and a cool breeze is blowing the sheer curtains towards me.

Sitting up, I glance around and don't _really _recognize where I am. This is Jasper's house—that much I know, but I've never been in this room. It's a warm shade of brown from the velvet accent wall behind me to the shaggy carpet below me. It's fairly clean, not much clutter, which leads me to believe it's not Jasper's bedroom, until I see a concert poster of Jimi Hendrix on the wall.

Then I start to notice the little things. The surfboard on the balcony and the board shorts folded neatly on a chair against the far corner on right of me. The whole damn room screams of him now. I pull his comforter up to my face and smile.

He brought me to his bed, but did he stay here all night or sleep somewhere else?

Throwing the covers off me, I look down and frown at my clothes. Yes, it's for certain, I slept in here by myself. Nothing is out of place and the only thing taken off my body was my stupid, slip-on shoes.

I sigh. "Forever the gentleman."

Leaving the room, I follow the smell of food down the stairs and into the kitchen. The door is slightly ajar and I can hear Jasper and Edward talking in low murmurs. Not whispers or anything like that, because they're guys and don't really know how to speak in hushed voices.

I'm nosy and stay put, curious to know what boys say when girls aren't around.

"Do you have a place to grow it?" That's Edward. His voice is deep and flat. There is rarely any inflection of emotion his words. There's brute, dead honesty in him. He says what he means and does what he says.

"Yeah, this guy, Emmett, has this smoke shop with a basement we can use for awhile. But what I _really_ need is a green house." That's Jasper. His voice is kind, warm, and filled with so much emotion. I can actually feel him. He's the tranquility in Edward's chaotic, war-infected world. He's the believer in good.

Edward's laugh is cynical. "We need fucking money."

"I have a several grand saved up from deals I've made. It's only a couple of month's worth to pay off this guy for the space. After that, I don't know."

"No one can be involved in this. They'll just be greedy and want a bigger cut and shit."

"I know that, but what do you want me to do? I need a place to grow the weed, man. The amount of seeds you brought back is too much for me to produce in my parent's house. You have to be realistic."

Edward curses under his breath.

I poke my head further into the door to get a better view of the boys, but kitchen layout makes it impossible. The discussion they're having is about a business Jasper briefly mentioned to me during our surfing trips. He would never go into exact detail, but it's something both boys been planning to do for three years. The seed Edward brought back from Afghanistan is what started it all. Before then, Jasper was just a local dealer, but with his expertise in botany and keen business sense this thing of theirs could flourish beyond anything Laguna has ever seen.

All they needed was the right product.

"I'll find a place," Edward says.

"There's nothing out there. I've looked. Best case scenario, we build it, but that'll take money and time. Shit we don't have right now."

"Don't worry, bro, all right? I'll take care of it."

Jasper groans. "This is more complicated than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, and then you go and involve her. That's just going to keep complicating shit."

My ears perk up.

"Bean isn't a problem."

There's silence, and it's so fucking unbearable. I wish to God I could see their faces. It drove me nuts last night when they would have these telepathic conversations, but at least then I could try to translate it by expressions. This shit makes me feel blind.

"What? You don't think I'm being cautious?" Jasper asks.

"Her dad is DEA."

"Ex-DEA, and what does that matter? He's been a buyer for years. The guy is cool."

"Yeah, until you start fucking with his little girl."

Charlie's threats ring loud and clear. He would go to great lengths to put Jasper away, or so he told me. I hoped the weed would sustain him long enough persuade him to back off a little, but the misguided father instinct is strong in him. If for one second he thought these boys were taking advantage of me, I know he wouldn't hesitate to throw them both in jail.

I vow to make sure Charlie never finds out about us.

"You want me to drop her? Play it safe? Don't ruffle any feathers? Is that your advice to me right now?" Jasper's tone is stern. He's keeping his cool, no rising of his voice, but I can hear how angry he is.

What Edward's saying makes sense. I'm a potential problem to their business, but the thought of Jasper cutting me off is terrifying. I tried it once and can't foresee doing it again.

"Do what you want with her." The chair's legs scrape across the tile floor. "You just need to be aware what you're up against."

"Where you going, man? I made pancakes."

"I'm not hungry," Edward says. I hear him open the arcadia door to the back porch that leads to the beach.

Jasper continues to move about the kitchen while I stand outside the door and debate when the perfect time is for me to go in there. I don't want him knowing that about my eavesdropping and it leaves me kind of stuck in limbo. Maybe I should go upstairs and pretend I just woke up. Or maybe it would be best for everyone if I left.

The walk home isn't all that appealing, deadly traffic and whatnot, but having to face my boy as he breaks up with me is even less appealing.

I decide to go home and turn around to head back upstairs for my shoes, but find Edward leaning on a pillar staring at me. I'm startled, my heart jumping out of my chest and I'm wondering how the hell he got there. He must've snuck in around the side (And I'm guessing he saw me through the windows) but he's amused, cocky, and giving me a cease-all fire smirk. He's caught me, red cheeked and everything—we both know I was snooping.

"How long have you been there?" I ask.

"Not as long as you," he replies and takes a large stride in my direction. He's right on top of me before I can move away. He puts both his hands on the wall above my head and traps me between his muscular arms. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing."

"I doubt that."

Edward is an unpredictable guy. He has a gun sticking out of his waistband and can probably kill me with his pinky—that's not an exaggeration. Jasper told me the story about the club in Miami. He's dangerous and makes no excuses or apologies for it. I know, deep down where my common sense lies, he should scare me, but my attraction towards him is stronger than any fear. All I can focus on is how unique and striking his eyes are in this light. The bright sun brings out the imperfections of the gold and brown specks outside the rims of his pale, defining greens.

It's mesmerizing.

Then there is a subtle, yet tender quality of Edward he tries to hide behind his macho Seal bravado, but he shows it to me without realizing it. Like right now, he's trying to intimidate me by being forceful and surrounding me, but his hand twitches and flinches every few seconds when a strand of hair sweeps across my face. He wants to touch me as bad as I need to touch him.

And knowing this, the fact he may want to hate me but will never hurt me, gives me the guts to push him. He doesn't go far, a very heavy and strong guy, but my shove does cause him to stumble back enough and allows me ample room to escape.

"You know nothing about me," I yell in a hushed-whisper, making sure Jasper doesn't hear this conversation, "but you think by talking with me for one night—"

"We did more than just talk," he interrupts and approaches me again. This time, he rests his hands on my hips and I don't fight back. He smells good, a different brand of boy with the same hint of tropical oil. I try not to make it obvious how much he affects me, but it's difficult with his hot breath in my ear. "Your mouth told me everything I need to know about you."

I almost falter and succumb to the shivers, but somehow I find my strength and put all I have in pushing him away. "Then you should know I'm not going anywhere!"

There's surprise in his eyes as he falls back, glancing at me and the distance I've created between us. It's taken everything out of me, and I'm panting from the exertion, but I stand taller because of it.

"You don't have to like me with Jasper," I storm him and jab my finger into his chest, "you just have to accept it."

Edward tries not to smile, keeping his expression somber, refined, as he raises his hands with palms forward in a mock surrender. "You won't hear anymore shit from me."

Wars and battles will be waged with him, (I can see this coming from a mile away) but today, I won this one. It's impossible to not be smug about it.

"Good, let's keep it that way," I say and turn my back on him. He watches me and my ass walk away until I've disappear into the kitchen.

Jasper looks up from the stove and grins when he sees me. There's no intention in his eyes to heed his best friend's advice and break things off. He makes me a plate of blueberry pancakes and pours me a glass of orange juice. This eases my growling stomach and any fear I had about walking home. He wants me to stay and I will—through it all. Nothing outside of this house or Jasper will scare me away: not Charlie or the law, or even the illegal production of marijuana.

I'm a thief by trade, but the real injustice I've committed was to my heart by consenting to these older boys and spinning that damn bottle.

***()()***

The rest of the day is spent surfing and playing a few games of volleyball with Jasper and Edward. They kill anyone who goes up against them. It's unreal to witness how in sync they are with one another. I can't help but feel as an outsider at times. Their friendship is solid, stronger than anything I've ever seen. The telepathic conversations are one thing, but the intimate interactions and movements these guys share is daunting. The only thing that keeps me here is their devoted attention to me.

They flirt with me, each in their own ways, but equally—and they both know their doing it. I would've expected Jasper to be more territorial with me, but he isn't. At first, I thought—and _felt_, honestly, that he didn't give a shit (like he's passing me over to his buddy, like a toy-whore or something).

But this couldn't be the furthest from the truth.

There's trust and respect between the boys and me. It's the strangest thing and not so easy to explain, but it feels right and natural, somehow.

The best way to describe is, like, dating one boy at a time but multiplying that by two. That's a shitty description. It's confusing, but makes sense and is a damn contradiction: like pain but pleasure, salty but sweet, hot but cold, peaceful but violent.

To greed, it's a perfect set-up, but to me? It's nerve-racking, and by the end of the day, my head is spinning and I'm dizzy.

Even sitting in between them in the truck, with both their legs pressed against mine, is cause for some panic-induced hyperventilating. I keep it together on the outside, but on the inside, I am screaming with want and trying not to attack them.

I'm biting my cheek and white-knuckling it the entire ride home.

When we do reach my street and park about a block away from the apartments, I just about crawl over and straddle Edward to get out of this damn truck. These boys drive me insane and I need fresh air to think straight...or at the very least, get my hormones in check.

Edward chuckles, steering me clear from hitting the pavement with my face by moving aside and stabilizing my weight by palming my ass. Jasper is there at the passenger side and I put my hands on his shoulders while he holds my waist, lifting me out and setting me down on the curb.

"Thanks," I say to both.

Edward waves me off and shuts the door.

"Maybe I should walk you home?" Jasper offers. "Just to be safe."

"Okay, yeah, that'll be great."

It's quiet in my neighborhood and unusually dark out. The moon is black and a few stars litter the sky, but too many city lights dull out their brilliance. I walk side by side with my boy, neither of us talking, but the crickets keep chirping away. They're adding that much needed noise to ease the tension. It calms my racing thoughts. There are so many questions at the tip of my tongue and I can't find the courage to ask them.

Stopping right before the gate, Jasper turns to me and says in a rushed breath."I'm heading back to school tonight."

My world is at a standstill with my heart and I try to smile through the disappointment of him leaving so soon. "Until when?"

"Early March is when I complete my last class—maybe sooner. I just got to stay focused."

"All right." It's the same old line, but it doesn't have the same effect on me. That fear and insecurity is gone. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," he grabs my hands in an effort to keep me there, "I don't want you thinking the worst if I don't call you one afternoon or if our texts are cut short."

"Okay, so you're going to be busy," I say. "I get it, Jasp."

"No, you don't get it." He yanks me forward and wraps my arms around his waist. I feel his heart pounding so fast and so hard. He's terrified and his voice trembles. "I'm not blowing you off or distancing myself from you. I need you to understand that. This is how it's got to be for now. I just—I can't stop doing what I set out to do because I met you."

"I know that, and I'm not asking you to leave school or anything," I say, but I'm confused as why he's telling me this. What have I done to make him think he'll lose me that easily?

Then October comes to mind and how I stormed into a store, out of the blue, and demanded a new number. It was all because of a text of mine he didn't answer. How irrational of a response, but then again, fear can rule many decisions in life.

And right now, fear is ruling him. He thinks history is going to repeat itself.

"Oh, my God, I'm such a bitch," I blurt out.

Jasper whips his head up and cocks an eyebrow. "What? No, you're not."

"Ugh, yes, I am." Hiding my face in his chest, I groan. "The only reason you're telling me this is because I changed my number on you."

"Yeah, but that's my fault. I wasn't clear to you about our situation."

I slowly pull away from the comfort of his warmth and peek up at him. "What _is_ our situation?"

He doesn't think about his answer and responds in a soft-Jasper-kind-of-way. "We're friends."

"That's all we are then?" I unravel myself from his arms and brush off his touch. "Just friends?"

"Hey," he grabs the bottom of my shirt and tugs me back, "don't you think I want more with you?"

"But it's complicated, right?"

He knows then I'd heard his conversation with Edward and he goes on the defense. "Yeah, it's fucking complicated, Bean. Everything about you complicates shit, but I don't care about any of that. I never did."

"Then what is it?"

He shakes his head.

"Look, I like you..._a lot_, okay?" I pull my shirt out of his grip and unhook the latch on the gate to Dad's apartments. "But when you kissed me last night, it changed things and we can't go back. It's either all or nothing now. I won't—No! I _refuse_ to accept less from you," I point at Jasper, "less from him," I point towards the truck, "or anyone, for that matter."

Jasper's slumped posture goes erect and he narrows his eyes. "Him? Who do you…" he gives a fleeting look back at the truck and then back at me. "Bean, do you…" But I'm already halfway into the gate. "Hey, can you hold on for just a second and talk to me?" He grabs a hold of my wrist, but doesn't pull or jerk me back. That's not his way. He's easy with me, even if when he's mad or hurt, but just this little bit of him and his touch beats down my walls.

I squeeze my eyes closed, crumbling block by block, and whisper. "What?"

"You're right," he says and removes his hand. "Everything's changed now and we can't go back." I hear the shuffle of his shoes against the pebbles on the concrete and then I feel him in front of me. "But I'm not stupid either."

Jasper caught my slip, but I don't confirm his suspicions by saying his name. It's not necessary. We both know who he is and this no longer just about us. There's a third party sitting in a truck about a block away and whether or not he wants any involvement in this is still not known.

The facts are simple: I don't know Edward. These feelings I have for him are strange and baffling—at best, and very premature. My thoughts on the subject of polygamous relationships are merely experimental. I'm curious and want to experience both, but if I had to choose just one, the boy in front of me would win.

No contest.

"Edward is…" I pause, opening my eyes and looking at Jasper straight on, hoping to drive this one truth home. "We're just friends."

He smiles, almost satisfied with that answer, until his ever conscious brain thinks of some other obstacle to throw at me. "And what if he wants more?"

"Then you and Edward…" I notice the door to Charlie's apartment open and he steps out to smoke a cigarette "…are going to have to figure something out and make it work." I rise to my tip-toes and kiss him chastely on the lips. "I have to go now. Call me tomorrow, okay?"

"_Bean_!" Jasper calls after me, but I've already gone, flinging the gate open and slamming it closed.

I speed walk through the courtyard and don't look back. My abrupt and hasty departure had more to do with what I said to him than the fear of actually being caught by Dad. I took an opportunity to express my real, uncensored feelings to him and used it to my full advantage. It's freeing to be able say what you want and not have to stick around for the response.

"Night, Charlie," I say, not stopping and keeping a forward trajectory into the house.

"Hey, kiddo," he replies, barely getting out a "_where you been_?" before I'm inside my room and out of his reach.

***()()***

After a night of poor and horrible sleep, I decide to get up before the sun and go surfing. It's the one thing I have that relaxes me and keeps me from stealing. I'm not cured from that pesky habit, not by a long shot, but it's a start. Jasper is the constant voice in my head and leads me towards the sea. The surfboard he bought me for my birthday is his reminder. The paint on the front of the board is scuffed up and chipped from a coral rock I hit a few weeks ago, but the night sky and stars artwork on its underbelly is still intact and beautifully clear.

It always manages to take my breath away.

I check my phone. There's only one text from Jasper to let me know he made it to school safe. It's cordial and polite, but not what I wanted. Last night fleeing from him and the situation seemed like a brilliant idea. Now that choice is driving me crazy. Why couldn't I stick around for the answer? What is he thinking? Is he okay? Does he hate me? Does he hate Edward? Will either of them ever talk to me again?

These are the questions that made me toss and turn all night long.

I need to get out of this stuffy house and into that beautiful, expansive ocean.

Throwing my beach bag over my shoulder, I grab my board and move quietly through the apartment. On the kitchen counter top, I snag Charlie's car keys and head for the door. He's on the couch snoring—completely dead to the world.

After finishing off the bag of weed I brought home from Jasper's party, he ate a crap load of junk food and passed out. This is a nightly ritual for my father. I remember what he used to be and what he's become now and it makes me sad. He was a damn good cop, but having him as a docile and high parent figure works better in my favor. The pothead Charlie doesn't notice much of what his rebel daughter is doing or he really doesn't give a shit—possibly both.

I don't care either way.

Coming out of the apartment, I lean my board up against the wall and lock the door. If I plan my day right, I can catch a few waves, eat a little lunch, bullshit with Alice, and be back before noon. Charlie won't rise until after one, but really won't get his second wind until, at least, two or three.

If that man's anything, he's consistent.

Hooking the keys to my belt loop, I carefully grab my board and swing it around. My whole body freezes when a glimmer of a knife's blade catches my eye. It takes me a few seconds for my brain to process and put all the pieces of the picture in front of me together.

"Zero six hundred on the dot. Jasper said you were punctual."

Edward is on my stairs. He's dressed in a wet suit with the top half pulled down and hanging at the waist. The shirt he's wearing represents my high school, but the tattoo on his chest is the real prize and it peeks out at me from the side. He's ripped the sleeves off and the constant washing and wear of the shirt has caused the cloth to fall apart, thread by thread. It's barely hanging on. I don't care or see all that. I'm too focused on his muscles and colorful ink.

The clearing of his throat alerts me that I've been standing there gawking at him for way too long.

"Um…" I blink to get my thoughts together, "why are you here?"

"Today's Saturday," he says, as if that should explain everything.

It doesn't.

"Yeah, I know, but why are _you_ here on my porch?"

He stands and rises to his full height—which is fucking towering. "I figured you would need a ride to the beach."

"No, I'm covered," I say and flick the keys on my jeans. "Thanks, but you can leave now."

Edward groans, clearly frustrated with me, and rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, I don't think jacking your father's car is all that smart."

"I'll take my chances with Charlie, all right?" Shifting my board to the side and underneath my arm, I stride over to Edward and get into his face. He's 6'2 or something and surpasses me by eight inches or so, but I make up for what I lack with a spit-fire attitude. "You see, unlike _you_, I'm not afraid of the man he _used _to be."

"I knew you heard everything."

"But it doesn't change a damn thing, does it?" I say with a shrug. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some surfing to do and you're wasting my sunlight."

I get about two steps in before he's grabbing my arm and thrusting me back. Edward doesn't play nice and his touch is rarely, if ever, gentle. It's not his way.

"Here's the deal, Little Miss Isabella," he says and tightens his grip, "while Jasper's away, you got me. You don't have to like it," he leans down to my face and forces a strained, teeth-grinding smile, "you just have to _fucking_ accept it."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Nine**

After he told me that he was a non-negotiable figure in my life until Jasper comes back, he kind of stopped communicating. Instead, ol' silent night packs my board up in his car and drags me to the worst possible beach to surf on.

I'm pretty sure it's in retaliation for my snotty attitude this morning.

It has to be, because why else would he bring me to such a horrific place? The water is shallow, barely waist deep, and the ocean floor is riddled with jagged, death-creating rocks. Only experienced surfers catch waves here. The majority of people, like me, have died or lost limbs out there—neither of these things I want for myself.

Of course, I asked him to confirm my suspicions when we first got here, but he lost the power of speech and just pointed towards the waves like a mime. That's it, and then proceeds to pop a squat in the sand to watch me drown. It's a challenge. Edward wants to see how far I will go to save face. Being stubborn and stupid, I can't admit how being with him terrifies me. So, I stand up straight, push my shoulders back, and take my board (and what's left of my pride) out to the sea. It doesn't seem bad from the shore distance and catching a wave might be easy. All I need to do is ride a small one, nothing too flashy or extreme, and prove Edward wrong.

The bright, happy sun shining down upon Rockpile has no effect on the water and the arctic temperature goes straight through my wet suit, freezing me to the bone. Two minutes in, I stub my big toe on some evil coral rock and my surfing is quickly aborted. There's blood and shame rising to the water's surface. My pain comes out in a single tear, but mostly I'm pissed at myself for letting Edward push me this way. Any idea I may have had this morning about getting away to the calm waters of the sea to forget about my shit is ruined in a heartbeat.

I'd come stumbling back to shore and throw my board on the ground. "What now?"

"Just watch," Edward says and pats the spot next to him.

Sitting down, I'd focused all my attention on the blissful blue and the influx of people raiding the beach. Even though this place is dangerous, and nearly impossible to surf, many brave, poor souls attempt to hang ten on a daily basis. Some are successful, but most end up coming back to the shore like me: cut-up and bleeding, pulling their sad, dilapidated boards behind them.

I'd found some humor in our collective failures, but Edward's not amused, or at least act like he's not. A mute statue next to me, staring out into the ocean—and sure, yes, I can get over his assholery, in some ways, but his lack of conversational skills is frustrating. When he picked me up this morning, I'd foolishly thought it wouldn't be so bad to spend the day with him without Jasper. We'd get to talking and slowly start to know each other, bond over surfing or whatever, but that never happened.

The more time I spend with the man of few words the more our treasured friendship, the one I'd created and imagined in my head, becomes less and less likely.

I'd talk nonstop for the the first thirty minutes, but it feels like hours, hoping to fill the void and ease my obvious discomfort. Edward sits back and contributes nothing, just a few syllables, accompanied with an occasional head nod or shake, (and maybe a flannel blanket that smells like him to warm me up) but that's it.

It's hard being the bigger person, but I try to make the best of this prison sentence handed out to me by not bitching about the cold weather or the fact I'm bored out of my mind. These are the moments in life where my anxiety is at an all time high. The only thing that will relax me is a quick steal, but it's impossible to do anything with the watch dog at my side. I make one move and those eyes of tranquil green, so pretty in ways but also deceiving, are on me and stop me cold. He uses his beauty, unreal in perfection, to intimidate me.

I hate myself because it works.

Being shackled to him is something I want more than freedom, but this communication barrier we have between us is something I won't tolerate. Around the fourth person to wipe-out, I grow tired of the one sided conversations. My courage takes an unusual, free of dope spike, and I snap.

"You know, don't get me wrong, I love the whole brooding, silent type thing you've got going on, but I'm getting really fed up with hearing my own voice." I pause to study his face, but nothing. He's like a British guard standing in front of the Buckingham Palace. "Aren't you?"

Another head shake, but this time he tacks on a full sentence. "I like your voice."

My face engulfs in flames—figuratively, of course. "You do?"

Head nod.

"Why?"

He shrugs, and that is new. "Why wouldn't I?"

I want to go into the all the reasons my voice is annoying, but berating yourself in front of a guy you like is annoying. Edward, in his way, is giving me a compliment, and he's sober. There's no weed or an empty, spinning beer bottle to influence his judgment.

This is kind of huge step for this guy.

Maybe I should give him one in return.

"Yeah, well, I like your voice too." I snuggle with the blanket and watch his expression carefully. "I just want to hear more of it."

And my intense scrutiny pays off.

Edward falters and smiles. It's not much, and quickly fades, but the hardness behind his eyes soften and the creases in his forehead smooth out. He's not scowling at the world. I see the boy he used to be.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asks.

"Everything," I say, and he scoffs. "Is that not okay?"

"No, it's just fucking vague, Bean—" Edward cuts himself short and clears his throat. The tension he released from his shoulders moments ago is building back up. He stares out into the ocean, doesn't look at me or even acknowledge that I'm there hanging on his every word.

The little progress we've managed to make is shattered and forgotten. It's like starting back at square one.

I replay the brief conversation to figure where things went wrong. Nothing stands out. This guy is moodier than a chick. He's too much in his damn head all the time. I know he's been through Hell, but he's home now and I want the Edward I saw with Jasper yesterday. The one who flirted with me, made jokes, and touched me often.

I could fall in love with that boy.

How can things change so much in only twenty-four hours?

"Screw everything then," I say, and throw the flannel blanket off me and onto his lap. He turns his attention off the crashing, soothing waves and on to me. My face, easily read, tells him everything I'm feeling. "I want to know why you're here and why you agreed to do this. Isn't there something else you rather do with your time than babysit some teenage klepto?"

I suspect my habits are why he's been assigned to me by Jasper.

Edward wants to laugh at my colorful descriptions, but is too dedicated to being a soldier. "We're hanging out, Bean—" He stops himself again, but instead of going mute, he redirects the conversation in the way of my growling belly. "You're hungry. Let's go eat something."

It occurs to me then why he keeps getting quiet and closing himself off.

"You know, I don't mind if you call me Bean."

Edward stands and brushes the sand off his hands. "That's what Jasper calls you."

The sun shines above him and creates a halo over his head. I raise my hand to block out some of his heavenly glare. "So what? My mom calls me Bella."

"That's your name."

"No, my name is Isabella Marie. Bella, just like Bean, is a nickname. It doesn't matter who came up with it, I'll still answer to it."

The wind picks up again, chilling me out and igniting a million goose bumps to pop up all over my exposed skin. This Arizona girl freezes at seventy degrees and my teeth chatter again—rather loudly.

Edward picks up the blanket I'd tossed and crouches down to wrap it around me. He rubs his hands up and down my arms to generate warmth. "What do you want?"

The list of things I want from him is long, so I settle on the one that's least likely to scare him away. "I just want to be your friend." The conflict in his face and hesitance in his response worries me. "Don't you?"

"No," he says, rising up from his squat. He blocks out the sun, casting a dark, bleak shadow over me. That one word infiltrates my hopes and crushes them.

I stay seated, not having the motivation to move or do anything, but think about his lips and how much better they would feel with a clear, sober head. Not that it matters. Edward has made it pretty clear what he wants and it involves keeping his distance. This arrangement is a job to him. Almost like a less hostile and dangerous tour of duty, he wants to get in and get out and get home.

"Bean," I hear his voice, but then his hands come into view. He's holding them out to me. I take a chance to look up at him, knowing damn well I'm asking for heartache. Edward, still beautiful and unreal, is watching me closely with a pained, somewhat guarded expression. "Come on."

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment and don't know when to quit, but I don't think about the consequences of taking him up on his offer. His hands are big, massive even, and his long fingers curl around my hands and engulf them. He makes me feel delicate and precious, but he doesn't treat me like fragile china. Yanked me to my feet, I go crashing into Edward's chest with a solid thud. He's abnormally warm, and I close my eyes just enjoying the feel of his skin against my cheek.

I'm obvious about my attraction, and 'Friends' is a relative term to me (apparently).

Edward doesn't push me away or set boundaries, but encourages this girly crush of mine by fanning the flames and putting his arms around me. He squeezes, my body pressed against his, and I listen to his heart as it pounds in his chest, so fast and hard. It's thundering, vibrating, taking over and changing everything I thought to be true.

"Jesus." He lets out a heavy sigh and rests his chin on my head. "You're going to get me in trouble."

I smile, just simply beside myself. Because no matter how small the victory, it just gets me closer to winning the battle and having precisely what I want. "I hope so."

***()()***

It's been two weeks since that day at Rockpile and my education is in full swing again. School is tedious and pointless. I'm not learning a damn thing, just itching like a crack head to get the hell out. Alice rushes me the first day back and asks me a shit load of questions, wondering where I'd went and who I'd hooked up with on Thanksgiving. She wouldn't believe me if I told her, so I don't and keep mum about Jasper and Edward. Besides, I'm not the bragging type, or the girl who likes to kiss and tell, exposing all her dirty little secrets. But then again, really what is there to brag about?

It was one night of drunken lust, filled with endless weed and a high stakes game of _Spin the Bottle_.

I can barely remember it anymore.

Even now the whole thing sounds juvenile, and telling Alice anything would just lead into more questions and possible rumors. She will exaggerate and gossip to people I don't know and definitely don't want knowing about my life. It's too complicated of a situation to be tainted by lies, and these two unruly boys, no matter how twisted they got me, they're mine and I refuse to share them with the world.

I'll do whatever I can to protect what we have.

On the up side, I've managed to make some strides with Edward and Jasper. Things are happening slowly between all three us. Jasper texts and calls me daily, keeping me in the loop about school and keeping his promise by not leave me hanging, or wondering what he's thinking. We don't discuss our relationship, because neither of us knows what it is. Everything is still too new and he's away too much. Maybe when he comes home, we'll talk about it, but right now we keep things on a superficial level.

My progress with Edward is steady, but subtle in its own growth.

Every day he opens up to me, little by little, talking about Jasper and how he's the only guy that kept him sane after the death of his parents. I loved the story about the time they got caught stealing Turtle Wax from a surf shop when they were fourteen. Both boys were grounded for two weeks. No TV, no video games, no surfing, and definitely no girls.

But that's one topic I want nothing to do with. Edward's smart, he catches on to my silent cues and never discusses the girls he's been with, or even the girls Jasper's been with. I'm grateful for that bit of kindness, and in return, I don't mention Marcus or anyone else.

Edward does talk openly about the good times he had in the Navy. How excited and proud he was when he became a SEAL. He even talks about some of his experiences in Iraq. Most of his days there were spent having down time with his buddies, watching movies or lifting weights. The jokes and pranks they would play on each other made him laugh, and watching his eyes shine with happiness, is better than anything I've ever known.

But with the good comes the bad and not everything's perfect. He tries discussing the bad times with me, leaving out gruesome details. That's something he still has issues with and glossing over it has kept him stable, sane, and in the here and now. I've asked him about his scars and he doesn't hesitate or leave out any details with me. He tells me it was because of an IED (Improvised Explosive Device). It was left on the roadside and blew up as he drove past it during a convoy mission almost two years ago. It killed four of his men and disfigured two others. He said he was lucky. It could've been worse.

"Shrapnel," he points the scar below his eye, "almost took my sight."

It's Tuesday afternoon, Edward's picked me up from school (like he's done every day since Rockpile) and we're just sitting in his car outside my house, listening to music and talking. The rain started pouring down about fifteen minutes ago and hasn't let up. It thunders on the roof and front windshield, making it impossible for me to brave the weather, but I also can't seem to force myself to leave the comfort of my boy's company. He's got the heater on full blast, the radio turned down low, and all of his rapt attention is on me.

"What's that?" I ask, tentatively raising my arm to touch that patch of delicate skin. It's a risk, but he nods and takes my hand, pressing it against his neck. This is an intimate moment, feeling his war and pain under my fingertips. I want more, but know not to push him.

"It's fragments of a bomb. When it blows it up, it sends out whatever it's comprised of. Usually it's nails, ball bearings, needles or other small metal objects. The shit varies, but it comes at you like a million fucking bullets." He moves my hand along the jagged scar; it's bumpy and hard in some places. "You feel that?"

I swallow thickly. "Yeah."

"That's shrapnel."

"Does it hurt?" I pull away, but Edward is quick to bring me back in, forcing me to stay and not be afraid.

"No." He never takes his eyes off mine, tugging aside a portion of my shirt and exposing the long, faint, silvery line that runs down the front of my chest. "Now it's your turn."

The one thing about me no one ever notices, Edward sees and it scares the shit out of me. I don't know how to respond, not wanting to go into it, but feeling as though he deserves to this bit of my past. He waits patiently for me to get my thoughts together.

Breathing in deep, I steady my troubled, pounding heart and speak in a whisper. "It's some congenital thing I had when I was a baby."

"You had surgery for it?" He leans in close and traces it down, but stops short of my cleavage.

I nod, unable to focus anywhere else but where he's touching me. "Yeah, I've had three before the age of one. They had to fix an artery or something, I don't really know."

That's a lie. I know everything about my heart defect. It's called Transposition of the Great Arteries. My aortic and pulmonary arteries got switched and the left side of my heart was getting deoxygenated blood. I couldn't breathe right and wasn't able to latch. I was crying, non-stop, so hungry and in pain. Mom says she saw it before the doctors and asked one of the nurses, "_Why does my baby girl look like a blueberry?_"

They diagnosed my problem fairly quickly and my first surgery was done two days after my birth. It wasn't a big deal or anything. I recovered and had no problems with physical activity. Mom pushed me to overcome my 'disability' by expecting nothing but the very best from me. If I had shortness in breath in ballet, I was to ignore it and carry on with a smile.

_Chin up, Isabella_.

The only reminder I have now is the faded scar on my chest, and like I said, no one really spots it unless it's pointed out to them.

Edward's different.

He sees everything.

"You're a lot like me," he says, dragging his hand away from me and placing it on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, how so?" I lean away from him, resting my back against the door and creating space between us. I'm breathless, and it's not because of my blemished heart, but from the intensity he creates by sharing the same air with me. He makes me nuts with desire, because I want him in ways that aren't possible and it's getting harder to control it.

"Just the way you minimize the bad shit. You don't want to be seen as weak. I like that about you." Edward smiles, it's bashful and unlike anything I'd ever seen from him. "And when I tell you certain things, you don't look at me like other people do."

"How do I look at you?"

He faces me head on and says in the most stern, no bullshit tone, "Like I'm Edward and not some fucked-up solider of war. I look in your eyes and the last thing I see is pity."

"That's because you're an asshole."

Edward laughs, a red hue flushing his cheeks and neck, and he looks away. "Yeah, I know."

***()()***

Rose groans into the phone. _"How do you stare a boy in his face when he says that shit to you and not kiss him?"_

"It's complicated," I say, laying back in my bed and staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Edward left several hours ago, but I'd been debating whether or not to call Rose, knowing damn well she would call me a pussy for not fucking him in his car or on the streets. She didn't care how it got done, just as long as it did. "He's Jasper's best friend."

"_And so? Screw them both, preferably at once. Ugh, I should be having these problems, not you."_

I laugh, because Rose wouldn't hang back and wait for the guy to make the first move. She takes control. Like everything in her life, if she wants something, she'll take it and nothing will stop her from attaining it. Not money, not social status, not even a dude's best friend. This is one of the many qualities I envy the about her.

"_Listen, I know you're in a sticky situation, but you got to make a move already."_

"And what if I do and they're not into me?" I ask, and this immediately gets a snort from her.

"_Guys don't waste time with a girl they're not interested in, okay? Trust me, they want you."_

I cover my face with my hands to hide the blush no one will see. "Okay."

"_Speaking of Jasper, when's the last time you spoke with him_?"

"It was this morning, actually. He was on his way to class and didn't talk long, but that's all I really get from him these days. Just these brief, inconsequential conversations, and…" I don't want to admit to her how that bond we shared is slipping away. She'll tell me to drop him and go for the available best friend. I still want Jasper. "Anyway, he's supposed to come home next month for his mom's birthday."

"_Have you two ever discussed your coupling status?"_

"No, of course not, why would we? That kind of conversation will be had when he gets home and not over the—" _Beep, beep. _I pull my phone away from my ear and see Jasper's name blink across the screen. I sit up straight in my bed, heart racing with a painful strength. "Shit, he's calling me right now. I'll call you back." Rose says something, but I hang up on her and switch over the call. "Hello?"

"_Hey, Bean," _Jasper says, his voice sounds strained, out of breath and nervous. "_How are you?"_

"I'm good," I say, but there's something that isn't right with him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"_Everything's fine. I just, well, I just needed to talk to you and it couldn't wait. I'm sorry if I woke you," _he says, and I glance over at the clock. It's past one in the morning. Holy shit! How did it get so late?

"No, I wasn't sleeping, it's...are you sure you're okay, though? You sound strange." I'm at the edge of my bed now, listening to his breathing and background noises. It's like he's walking outside, I can't tell. "Where are you?"

"_Remember the last night I was in town and you demanded more from me?"_

I roll my eyes at his choice of words. "Yeah, and you told me friendship was all you could do right now. Being more was just going to complicate things," this isn't the conversation I want to have with him over the phone, but I'm afraid to tell him so and never have this chance again, "and I said it wasn't good enough."

"_You were right, about everything. I just didn't know how to tell you_…"

There's distortion over the phone and he keeps cutting in and out. I'm pacing my room, concerned for him more than anything now. He doesn't sound like himself and it's late. "Jasper," I press the phone to my ear, hoping to get closer to him, "where are you?"

"_Bean_," he says again, but the static is all I can hear, plus there's some crunching noise and something else I can't seem to figure out—God, it sounds like he's walking somewhere, but where would he be going at this time of night?

"Jasper, hello? Can you hear me?" I pull it away from my ear and see the seconds keep rolling over into minutes. The call hasn't been disconnected, he's still there—_tap, tap, tap._ "Shit!" I spin around towards my window and drop my cell phone on the ground. I take a furtive step forward; confused at first, but then it happens again, another three soft taps. I'm not sure what to do now, call Charlie for help or run out of the house. My mind is set on bolting for Charlie's room since it's raining outside, but the final tapping accompanied with the subdued murmur of my name stops me in my tracks.

That voice, even through the glass and falling rain, is something I'll always respond to.

Picking up my phone, I put it to my ear and listen to his breathing on the other side of the line. "Where are you?"

"_Bean, just please_…" But I pull the curtains back before he can finish that sentence and reveal Jasper sitting outside my window, soaking wet, with his beautiful blue eyes on me, "…_let me in_."


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Hey, I'm sorry about these updates getting posted with such irregularity, but real life is a creativity sucker. Hopefully you're still with me, or if not, saved this story in your TBR until it's completed. It's going to be a fun ride. At least that's what I'm aiming for. Thank you to readers and supporters on Facebook/twitter, sticking with me and rec'ing this story. My lovely ladies, Annie, iDanceCullen, Sunny, Karen, and many more for making me believe this story is worth a share.**

**And Brina, my pre-reader, who isn't exactly a Jasper fan, but hangs around because Chonward's hot…and also, she kind of loves me. Thank you, girl! We're doing Forks this year. The first round is on me.**

***All the grammar mistakes are mine on a rent to own basis. **

**Chapter Ten**

There's a gorgeous boy outside my window, soaking wet and wanting to come into my bedroom, and the first thing that pops into to my head is Charlie. I should not be thinking of my father right now, but he's in the family room, about a wall away from me, puffing away on his new pipe and watching one of his absurd comedies.

This isn't good.

No, definitely not good.

Staring into Jasper's pleading eyes, I raise my finger and regretfully whisper to him, "One second."

Letting the drapes fall back to their previous position, I dash to my door and open it an inch or so, just enough to peek out. The hallway's dark, but I can see the flicker of the television screen and hear Charlie's laughter. He has a consistent routine of smoking weed, eating an entire bag of chips, and soon, as hyperglycemia catches up with him, passes out cold on the couch. He does this without fail, and rarely, if ever, does he come to check up on me. But I know tonight will be the night he does the unexpected by coming to my room to wish me goodnight. I'm not much of a gambler, knowing my luck is as good as the clothes staying on my body with Jasper in my room, but I can't leave my boy out there in the rain.

"Screw it," I say, and close the door.

There's no lock. Charlie removed the night we got into a fight about Jasper. He assumed by my defiant attitude that I'd be sneaking around with all the tom cats in our neighborhood, and took that extra, unnecessary, measure of ensuring my virginity. Yeah, that ship sailed long ago, but I didn't argue or push the issue to have the deadbolt reinstated.

Like I said, I was on the outs with Jasper, no guys in my school or anywhere in Laguna gave me that feeling, and Charlie wasn't nosy. Basically, a part-time dad, with a sober day or two, my estrogen filled girly moods kept him at bay.

If he was forced to bother me for something, and cross that unknown bridge into my room, he had enough courtesy to knock first.

But the one night I'm sneaking in my boy, he'll go into dad mode and come charging into my room. What will he find? My mind conjures up many scenarios, ranging from the most innocent to the most Rose-worthy tales.

Grabbing my childhood rocker, I tilt it on its side and jam the top of under the door handle. Giving the knob a few tugs, it seems pretty sturdy. This buys me a full minute. That's all I need. Living with mom through her cheating scandal of 2010 has taught how to move fast and dress faster when caught doing something wrong.

Turning my attention back to Jasper, my anxiety rises as a million butterflies flutter their wings in my stomach. It's chaotic and nauseating. I'm scared shitless, but I don't know why. It's not like I haven't been alone with him before, drunk and high, making out with him and his buddy.

This just feels different.

The urgency and need in his voice, accompanied by him driving for eight hours from Berkeley to knock on my window made this visit seem more than just a social thing. The implications of his actions are overwhelming.

_Tap. Tap. Tap…_

Okay. No more over thinking it. I'm just gonna let him into my room and see what happens.

Pulling my hair out of its messy bun, I fluff and primp it, giving myself a once over in the mirror. The California sun has removed that pale complication I'd acquired in Arizona, hiding away from the desert heat, and I look healthier now. But my lips are dry, and I rush to put on some gloss. It's the best I can do under the circumstances. Changing out of my oversized t-shirt and sweat pants would take too long.

"_Bean," _Jasper calls to me, all haggard and desperate.

Breathing deep in with a slow breath out, I steady my overwrought nerves and part the curtains. He smiles again, looking both relieved and bashful to see me. I unlock the window and it slides it up. The cool air rushes in, surrounding me with the smell of Jasper's faint cologne and the heavy December rain on concrete. He's already removed the screen and there's nothing separating us now.

"Hi," I say.

"Hey," he says back, wiping the water from his face, but it's saturated his dreads and continues to pour into his eyes. "Can I come in?"

Guilt floods me and I feel like the worst person ever for keeping him waiting that long.

"Oh, God, Jasp, I'm so sorry. Yes, come on, come on, get in here," I say and step aside.

"Thanks," Jasper says, and climbs through my window. He's taller, hovering over me about a foot or so, and stares down at me with his soulful eyes. We don't speak. Not one word. All I can hear is the dripping of the water, running down his face and dropping from the tips of his fingers onto my floor.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip…splash._

I frown as he shivers. "Why don't you take off your clothes and I'll go get you some towels, okay?"

"Bean…" he grabs my arm and keeps me there, "just wait."

"You're freezing," I say, but that's a lie, because in spite of the cold wind and frosty raindrops, his touch is like fire. The furnace warmth of his body is all I can think about now. How nice it would be to wrap myself in his arms, all cozy-close, and fall asleep there? "I'll only be a minute." I turn away; trying to free myself of him, but Jasper takes my other arm and pulls me into his chest. The contact soaks through my t-shirt. "What are you...?"

"Don't," he says, lifting me up enough to smother my protests with a kiss. It's rougher than usual, but I fall into him all the same. Those lips, wet from the rain, are strong, firm, and make my pounding heart go rushing into my throat. It's hard to think or breathe, devastated by the surge of his heat coursing through me, consuming everything.

I take fistfuls of his drenched shirt and push it up, over his head and off his body. My fingers glide down his chest, smooth skin, and along his tense, hardened stomach, feeling every dip and curvature of his muscles. He trembles, but doesn't pull away, all his lips know are mine. Drawing me further into him, my face tightly secured in his hands, I unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his jeans. There's no doubt in my mind how far I'm willing to take this, but Jasper ever aware of the situation, feels my hands, as my palm rubs up against him, coaxing and getting him harder.

He pulls back, and with a frustrated, exhaled breath, he says, "Bella…"

But I don't want to hear it.

"It's Bean," grabbing the belt loops of his jeans, I yank him back with me towards the bed, "and I want this, okay?"

"Okay." Jasper stumbles over his feet, but eagerly follows, his lips finding mine.

I decide that he should have all of me.

My heart painfully racing, I break away from his mouth and muster up the courage to bare everything to him. Removing my shirt and sweat pants with shaky hands, I stand before him as an offering. The silence that falls between us is jarring. Even the rain outside has ceased, and both of us aren't breathing, only staring at each other. This level of intimacy is terrifying, but exciting, and I pleading with him to do something. Either touch me or leave—just anything, I don't care.

"You're beautiful," he says, and I can see the want, the desire for me in his eyes, but his conscience is ruthless, telling him: I'm too young, these feelings are wrong, and he needs to stop this before things go too far. Jasper's the good one. He always does what's right and expected of him.

That's not the boy I want tonight.

"So are you," I say, hooking my thumbs at the top of his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. Jasper stops fighting what we want, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his clothes. He lays me back on the bed. I scoot up on the mattress to make room for him. He pushes apart my legs with his knees and moves over the top of me, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh.

I grasp my sheets and hold my breath, feeling his lips and tongue glide along my skin. I've never been put their hands on me this way before. Marcus stuck his dick in me and that was it. Jasper's different. He doesn't rush to the finish line; he saunters in the race and takes his time.

He slips a finger inside of me, and the shock of it jolts me upwards like a bolt of electricity.

It startles him and he stills for a moment. "Are you all right?"

I lift my head up and only see his intense blues staring back at me. "Yeah, I'm…fine."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, slowly removing his finger.

"No!" I say, and it comes out loud—almost like a yell, or a screech. Jasper's eyes go wide with mine. "Fuck," I whisper and clamp my hands over my big mouth. We listen for Charlie, too scared to move, but knowing it's stupid not to do anything. If he walks in right now—God, I can't imagine. How would he take seeing his daughter lying naked in bed with his drug dealer's head between her legs and a finger still deep inside?

Not all that well, I'm guessing.

A full, agonizing minute of silence passes without incident. I let my body relax, smiling shyly at him. "Don't stop, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." He chuckles. "Just try not to yell."

I nod, promising silence.

He kisses the inside of my thigh. It's a chaste peck at first, but soon it turns into something more profound and focused. I follow him his touch as it edges closer to my lips, then he kisses like he would my mouth, forcefully pulling, but tenderly, sucking them between his teeth. It makes me jerk, but not as crazy or dramatic, and I keep my hips planted on the bed.

It's hard to be quiet and not move with his fingers curling, thrusting in and out of me. Going deeper with each push, it's like he's trying to reach and touch every inch of me. He flicks and nibbles, lapping his tongue in a long stroke over my clit, evoking an intense rush in the pit of my stomach. It gnaws and twists. Something I've only experienced by masturbating.

What he's doing to me is a million times better.

A moan, or two, escapes me. They're nothing but a sigh at first, but when he adds another finger and momentum, I get louder as the pleasure amplifies. "Please."

Jasper groans, attacking me with his mouth again, the craze he lavishes on me is what pushes my body over the edge. I put my hands on his head and press him into me, rolling my hips as the tingles slowly, but forcefully, build up. He doesn't relent, fucking me harder and faster with his fingers and tongue. Sucking and licking me, taking my clit and my lips into his mouth.

I shudder, clamping my legs around him as every muscle contracts and tightens.

My eyes slam shut as it hits me like an intense wave, blindsiding me from the left and throwing me off my board. Pulled down by the surf, I sink and sink, letting it overtake me. It's peaceful in that moment. My mind and soul relaxed, but it fades—fast. I'm paddling back up to the surface, needing to breathe. The sea's calm on my return, but my board is broken in half.

"Shit," I pant, and release him from my death grip. The shivers and tingles still persist as Jasper breathes heavily on my swollen and tender lips. "No one has ever gone down on me before."

"That's a shame," he says, kissing my clit and removing his fingers, "but most guys your age don't know how anyway."

I think of Marcus and how he fumbled with the simplest of tasks, like taking off my bra. He wasn't even a good kisser. I taught him everything he knows (which he turned around and used on some other girl). Sex with him was mediocre—at best, and orgasms with him were a figurative term. I blew him out of boredom from time to time, but he never wanted to return the favor. Marcus had this irrational fear with vaginas. Poke but don't look. I blame the unhealthy relationship he had with his wretched mother.

"He definitely didn't," I say without thinking.

Jasper is exploring my body with his hands and mouth, but stops all too suddenly and pops his head up. "You're not a virgin?"

I know most girls lie, not wanting their guy to know they've been had by another, because somehow that would make them less desirable. That's the worst form of slut shaming. My experiences weren't the greatest, and quite pitiful in comparison to Jasper, but they're mine and made me who I am.

"No."

His eyebrows rise in shock. "Really? Who did you lose it to?"

"It doesn't matter." I reach for him, but he props himself up and sits back on his heels. He's naked and beautiful, teasing me by being a distant star in my sky.

"It matters to me," he says. "Who was it?"

"Nobody," I shrug, "just some guy."

"Do I know him?"

I gawk at Jasper, just stunned by how a moment ago he was kissing and fingering me, but now he's so far away and leaving me cold, craving his warmth. Why can't he just forget about all that and be with me? I've waited a long, long time for this, but now…what? The last thing I want to discuss was my ex-boyfriend with this boy, who I claimed as mine, that had no idea what type of relationship he wanted with me.

This turn of events pisses me off and I snap. "Who did you lose it to?"

"Easy. Maria Sanchez," Jasper says back at lightning speed and smiles cheekily. He's cute, but not that damn cute. Grabbing me by the knees, he pulls my ass across the bed and onto his lap. "Your turn. What's his name?"

"You don't know him," I take his hands and place them on my breasts, "okay? Can we drop it now?"

Jasper isn't stupid; he recognizes my tactics of diversion. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, gently massaging and rolling his thumbs over my nipples, sweet-talking them into hardening just for him. "You can tell me truth." He leans down to kiss me, moving his lips from mine, along my jaw, and up to my ear. He whispers. "Was it Edward?"

I jerk away, turning my head in an awkward position to really fucking look at him. "Are you serious?"

"It's okay. I'm not mad," he says, and there's no falsity to his words. A soft kiss to my frozen, stunned lips, he caresses my cheek in a pure, adoring way—that not only confuses me, but makes my heart hurt. "When did it happen?"

"It didn't happen with Edward," I say quietly.

Jasper narrows his eyes at me. "He wasn't your first?"

"No," I hold his face and smile at how adorable he is, "are you kidding me? Edward's your best friend. I wouldn't do that you. Marcus is just some guy in Phoenix that I used to date."

"Marcus? That's his fucking name?" There's actual rage and jealousy in his usual calm, somber features as he removes my legs from his lap and sits back against my headboard. "The guy sounds like a douche, Bean."

"Wait, a second…are you actually pissed off at me because I didn't sleep with Edward?" I'd expected him to be relieved, but he's disappointed. There's a brief, all too hazy, memory of my boys talking in code that first night. They made a silent, yet mutual agreement between each other—one I didn't know it was about me until now. I should be offended by being passed off and shared, but I don't see it that way. I'm wanted by two beautiful, insanely hot boys, who are polar opposites and offering me two sides of the same coin. I can't hide my smug smile. "That's what you want?"

"No," he says, but it's a lie. "I want you." He proves that by grabbing my wrists and yanking me back up to him. I'm splayed across his chest, trying to get my mind together, as he kisses my neck and grabs my ass. It's a clever ploy to distract me, but I'm not stupid, either. I noticed the subtle way his body reacted to the sound of Edward's name on my lips.

He doesn't think I see it, and will probably deny it to the end, but I know how to get it out of him.

Pushing myself off him, he whines at the loss of contact, grasping to pull me back, but I shake my head. Throwing my left leg over his body, I straddle him. That part of him that can't lie is pressed and trapped underneath me.

"Answer me truthfully," I say.

"Okay," he replies, placing his hands on my hips. "Fire away."

"Do you want me to fuck Edward?"

"No." He gulps loudly, but his dick twitches.

I bite my lip, fighting that urge to just grab him and shove him inside of me. It's right there between my legs, his head dripping with need and pressing against my clit. The throbbing ache is only increasing. "I don't believe you."

"He's my best friend," Jasper grunts, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into my skin, "and you're my Bean."

"But if you could have us both? Your Edward and your Bean together, fucking and doing this…" I rock my hips and rub my pussy all over him, causing this an unbearable, maddening friction, "…would you want that?"

Jasper's eyebrows furrow in a frustrated concentration, thrusting up while pulling me down. He's seeking to smother the yearning and keep his secrets, but he's too weak to lie. "Yes."

"And what about this?" I reach down between us and grab his shaft.

He nods, looking like a frightened teenage boy and not like the man he is. The control I have in that moment empowers me to be bold and aggressive one—but fuck, he's thick.

I'd known the sheer size of him, even gazed at it in awe, but until now, I just didn't really comprehend how blessed he was. He's bigger than Marcus and four of my fingers combined. It's difficult to wrap my head and fingers around that—and now with the pre-cum dribbling out, it's becoming too slick and much too difficult for me to keep a tight, firm grip on. I have to steady myself by placing a hand on his chest, slowly and carefully easing down on his dick.

Every inch of him tugs and stretches my walls. It's painful, and I don't breathe until he's all the way in.

Jasper notices my discomfort, pushing a strand of my hair off to the side and tucking it behind my ear. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I smile, a hint of embarrassment heating and flushing my face, "just give me a second."

"Okay," he says and waits patiently for me to start moving again.

It's a deliberate, leisurely rocking at first as I adjust to the feel of him inside me. Not once does Jasper get greedy, or antsy, or attempts to rush the process. He allows me to take charge and follows my lead, matching my slowed rhythm with his hips. Gripping his shoulders, I angle my body in a way that gives me more leverage and ability to increase the speed.

Things escalate from there as our feelings and need for each other intensify.

Jasper suppresses our collective moans by taking a hold of my face and pulling me down into a kiss. His lips firm, his tongue languid, and touch tender, proves to me that I'm not a conquest to him. This might be fucking to some assholes in Laguna, but Jasper wasn't that guy. Everything he did was genuine and meaningful. The term 'making love' always seemed cheesy to me, but that was before my boy came shooting across my sky.

Making love was real because Jasper made it real.

***00***

I wake up around three in the morning and reach out for Jasper. The sheets are warm, but he's not there. The panic of not being able to say goodbye to him sits me up with a start. My heart thundering in my ears, I search around the quiet and darkened room for him. It doesn't take me long to find his silhouette. He's at the foot of my bed and putting on his pants. He doesn't see me staring at him yet. The early morning getaway is typical boy behavior, the old 'hit it and quit it' strategy, but coming from Jasper seems odd.

"Hey," I say, and rub my eyes raw, but they refuse to fully open.

He snaps his head in my direction, obviously startled. "Hey."

"Where are you going?"

"I got to get back to school." He throws on his shirt before crawling back into bed and spooning with me. Pulling me into his chest, he rests his head on mine and sighs. "It's shitty for me to leave like this, but I didn't expect last night to happen."

"Yeah, me either." I yawn, drowsy from his strong arms and encompassing warmth. "Why did you come here last night?"

"Which version do you want to hear?"

"There's more than one?"

He laughs. "Yeah, ones really long and the other one is straight to the point."

"Ah." I find his hand and interlink our fingers. "Well, tell me the straight to the point one then."

"I didn't want to miss my chance with you again."

The darkness hides my smile, but I'm sure he can feel my heart speeding up. "How did you come to that decision?"

Not that it matter. I didn't care the how or why he came to that epiphany, only that he did.

"That's the long version," Jasper says. "You might get bored…" the bed shifts in weight and I can feel him peering over me, "…and you're already falling back to sleep."

"Tell me, anyway."

"All right," he says, and puts his head back on mine. Now it's his heart that's racing. "When I went back to school after Thanksgiving, I decided that we could be friends. Kissing you that night was wrong. I was an idiot for letting it happen. You're Charlie's daughter and you're only seventeen. Looking at you for too long can throw my ass in jail. Edward was right. He knew getting involved with you would only complicate things."

"I hope this has a happy ending."

"Bean," he moves his hand down and slips a finger into me, "we've already crossed a line."

"Yeah, Maybe," I hum blissfully, and add my hand to his, pushing him deeper and further inside, "but you can also always pull out at anytime, Jasp."

"Not when I was doing all I could not to cross that line with you in the first place," and he keeps moving in and out of me as he talks. "Anyway, I put all my energy into studying. It seemed to help." I'm barely even listening to him now. My focus is on his fingers as they pull out of me. He rubs and kneads the shit out of my clit until I'm ready to scream. Then he stops without apology, dragging his fingers down the center of my pussy, caressing and teasing me, only to plunge them back into me with an unyielding force. "I went days and days without thinking about you, but then you would text me, Bean—out of the blue, and all I could do after that was just sit there and think about you."

"I never stopped thinking about you," I spoke in a panted, jagged sentence.

"God," he groaned, pressing his face into my neck. His fingers and movements, along with his breathing, became more frantic and rushed out like his words, "all I wanted to do was touch you like this. I thought about what you would feel like and taste like or the sounds you would make. That's all I fucking did was think about being with you. Then I would hear about you from Edward, and how he obsessed about your perfume—Jesus, man. He killed me with that shit. I couldn't wait until Christmas, I had to come see you and tell you that…"

He's working me hard below, stroking and finger-fucking me into a damn oblivion. "What…tell me, what?" My voice is faint, not even a whisper, but Jasper hears me loud and clear.

"I needed to tell you that…" he puts his lips to my ear and breathes, "…Edward and I want more."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Thank you for being patient. I wish these chapters could get to you faster, but real life makes it impossible to get any free time to write. I'll keep plugging away though. I'm deeply in love with this story and want to see it through. Much love to the readers hanging with me.**

**And to Brina, my proof-reader, thanks for being a constant and true friend to me. No matter the distance.**

***All mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Eleven**

I can't think or see straight anymore. Everything's a chaotic blur. Jasper doesn't ease up; saying all these wonderful things as my body reacts, exploding around him. I whimper, and he mutes my moans with his other hand. I'm not sure if he understands what he's doing to me, but it's causing a chain reaction of pleasure, confusion, and a painful, tender heart. I cling to him, letting the ride of his fingers finish me off, his thumb smoothing out that last, poignant tingle.

The tension rolls away with a released breath and my muscles turn into jelly. I'm drowsy, more so than before, and the lure of sleep calls to me, but I fight against it. There's no way I'm going to close my eyes and allow this boy to disappear. Not after his declaration that he and Edward want more. But what does that mean? The pessimistic part of my brain refuses to accept that a little girl like me, the Bella from Arizona, would be worth these two boys' time, so she puts another meaning behind the word.

More could be a lot of things, I say and mentally go through a list: more weed, more surfing time, more fish tacos, or just more sex from a willing and eager seventeen year old girl.

The last one makes a lot of sense to Bella. Mom warned me about boys like them. They will never be as emotionally involved. It's the way the Y-Chromosomes are wired.

But I'm not just some girl to them, I'm their Bean. That title given to me raises the ante and the word becomes something much, much more.

"Did you hear me?" Jasper's voice, all sultry and deep, spoken low for only my ears to hear. He's bared his soul to me, giving away too much of his thoughts, and now he's afraid of what I might say. That fear is subtle, but evident in the way he's holding me, so crushingly close to his chest. "Baby?"

Then he goes and calls me that—which fucking derails me, and I want to scream. There's only one thing that can clear my head now.

"Do you have anything on you?"

Jasper releases me and sits up. "That's a good idea."

I reach over and turn on my lamp. It illuminates a soft glow, nothing too bright to alert Charlie. Slipping on my shirt, I get up from the bed and take a pair of my sweats to wedge underneath the crack of the door. Jasper's back is to me, and he's packing the pipe with the last bit of his weed. The dreads are pulled into a ponytail. They're one of my favorite things about him. It shows his carefree, hippy attitude, but it also demonstrates his patience. Jasper takes one, lithe step, while everyone else is taking twenty. He swaggers, because rushing to the finish line doesn't suit him.

There's no doubt in my mind that I'm in love with him, but I have feelings for his best friend too. They've been growing for some time now. Only it's not as simple to fall in love with Edward like I did with Jasper.

Jasper allowed me to know him, like a wide open door, where I was able to walk in freely and without trying. Edward's harder to crack. He only gives enough room to squeeze through, like a half-opened window. I've been slowly getting by, one inch at a time, but soon I'll be wiggling my way into him.

What exactly will I find on the other side?

Probably everything I never knew I wanted.

"Here," Jasper says with a grunt as he blows out the smoke, turning around and handing me the pipe.

I take it like my sanity depends on it, inhaling as deep as my lungs will allow. It's strong, the flavor rich, and burns up my insides. It doesn't happen often, but when the weed's superb, top-shelf chronic, I hack and hack and hack.

He laughs and pats my back.

"Wow, what is that?" I manage to cough out a sentence.

"Something I've created from Edward's Afghan seeds." He takes a deeper hit this time, and I can see his face redden as he holds back the cough, but eventually it breaks its way through. He's bent over, hacking out his lungs, and making me smile.

I snatch the pipe from him and take a shallow hit. It's smoother this time, curls and rolls down, wrapping me up in its soothing, loving embrace. My face twitches and my fingers go numb. I'm happy and downright giddy, but also feeling bold and sexy. This may seem like avoidance of a difficult situation to some, but to me, I can really talk openly with Jasper now.

All that anxiety, and needless thinking, is wiped away. "I want to talk about what you said about wanting more."

Jasper tenses and gulps loudly, most likely expecting the worst. "I know how it sounds, and it's presumptuous of me to think you'd be interested…"

"But I am!" I rush to stop him before he changes his mind. "I knew that night we played Spin the Bottle."

The memory of my boys' lips pressed against mine cements my decision.

"And you're okay with being shared?" He tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes.

Even high, he's skeptical.

"Only if that's how you guys see it." And it suddenly occurs to me that more may mean less than what I'd hoped. "I'm not a surf board, Jasp."

"That's not what I mean." He sighs with frustration, rethinking his approach, and reaches out for me. I allow him to run his thumb over my lips. It's feeding my addiction. Why would I deny myself what I want? "Bean, if you're with us, you'd be our girl and that's it."

I move away from his touch and replace it with the end of the pipe. The bowl's losing its cherry, and I'm eager to get another powerful hit in before I lose all my bravado. "And what would you and Edward be to me?"

He puts his hand on my thigh and leans forward, breathing in the smoke of my exhale as he talks. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to just belong to you guys, like some possession, where you can pick me up and set me down anytime you feel like it." A terrible thought of the boys sharing more than just me makes my heart twinge in pain. No amount of weed can mask the tremble in my voice. "I need to know you guys are mine only and that there are no other girls."

Jasper takes a hold of my face before I can look away and avoid staring into his peaceful blue waves. "We don't want other girls, Bean. We want you."

"Really?" My pulse quickens, pushing the blood to the surface, and I feel the hot prickle of a blush forming.

"Yeah, really." He pulls me down deeper into his ocean. "This isn't something we just decided on, okay? Edward and I have talked about this to the point of extreme exhaustion. We both know the risks that are involved by being with you, but we don't care anymore. You're worth the hassle."

I laugh, because Jasper knows me well enough to know that sarcasm is the only language I understand. "But how will this work? Who decides on the days I spend with Edward and the days I spend with you?"

"I thought sharing custody of you is not what you wanted?" He smirks. "Remember, you're not a surf board."

"Then what am I?"

"You're an addition to a friendship," he drops a hand from my face and traces a single finger down, down, and further down, until I gasp, "except now, it's got more perks."

***()()***

The sun rises and sets the ocean on ablaze outside my window. There's moisture in the air from the heavy rainfall from last night, but the gentle breeze blowing from the east lessens the overwhelming humidity. California weather is magical in ways and makes waking up in the morning like a dream. But what makes this morning even more perfect is opening my eyes and seeing the boy I'm madly in love with sleeping beside me. Jasper didn't leave for Berkeley like he'd planned to. He said missing one class wouldn't hurt him (especially since he's so far ahead in everything) and stayed with me for the rest of the night.

I have a faint memory of him telling me about the future of his business with Edward and how they wanted me to be a part of it. I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I do know it was his kisses that sent me off.

Then as I cuddle into the curve of his neck, my blissful moment is ruined by a gruff, semi-sober Charlie pounding on my door.

"Get up, Kiddo, you're gonna miss the bus!"

Jasper's eyes are wide open with sheer panic, and he nearly flies out of the bed in a poor attempt to escape. I put a steady hand on his chest and assure him everything's fine. My dad's parenting skills didn't extend past that door. It's amusing to me to see these guys, bad-ass drug dealers and Navy SEALs, afraid of half-baked Charlie.

He wasn't as scary as my boys presumed him to be.

I was more shocked by the fact Dad was up this early. He's usually in bed until noon or so, I'd imagined. I guess his bladder got the best of him, and he has to pass my room to get to the bathroom. I'm sure my education was an afterthought for him. Why else would he think I took the bus? He's always driven me there. But that's Charlie for you, a stoner with limiting brain cells first and a doting father second.

Glancing at the clock, I groan and roll back over into Jasper's chest. "I got to get ready for school."

I'm not a saint, not by far, and ditching classes wouldn't be out of the norm for me, but my ride is what gets me out of bed. Jasper climbs out of my window to give me some privacy, but mainly he doesn't want to press his luck and get caught by Charlie. I smile and nod, understanding his reasoning, even if I think he's being a tad paranoid. He doesn't leave though. I made him promise me.

It takes me twenty minutes to throw something on and pull my hair back. Make-up is the only thing I slow down and take my time with. The messy hair and clothes with a perfect face is a surfer SoCal thing. Well, actually, I think it's more of my own thing. Alice berates me every morning for it, but the look in Edward's eyes keeps it in constant rotation.

Slipping out the front door with little acknowledgement from Charlie, I'm greeted with a beautiful sight of Jasper sitting on my stairs. He's relaxed, leaning back and messing with his phone. When he sees me smiling at him from the doorway, he jumps to his feet and takes my backpack off my shoulder to carry it for me. He throws his free arm around my neck and pulls me towards the courtyard. I'm grasping onto his shirt and enjoying the closeness. How can things change so quickly after such a stalemate? I try to imagine things as they were before, a mere twenty-four hours earlier, and it doesn't seem real. Jasper holding me, like truly being with me, is the only reality I know now.

But things get a little more than real when we see Edward sitting outside his car.

He's got his arms folded over his chest, biceps bulging out of his short sleeve t-shirt, and shamelessly advertising his tattoos. There's a stern, pissed off look to his face. I don't know why, but that fury that burns inside him makes him even sexier to me. Any rational, self-preserving asshole would take one look at my boy and run for the hills. I'm not going anywhere. I know he's an unsteady and dangerous element, but I want to be there with my legs wrapped around him when he goes _ka-boom_.

"It's okay," Jasper says when he feels my body tense up, but he's reading me all wrong.

"I know," I say, and quicken our pace, eager to get whatever we have between us started.

Edward doesn't move as we approach him, always maintaining his cool, indifferent demeanor, while covering the intensity of his greens behind his dark shades. "You just couldn't wait, could you?"

"I didn't see the point," Jasper replies without apology. "She's cool with it."

Edward nods, leaning down to my left and tucking the hair behind my ear. I'm sandwiched between both boys now. "Morning, Bean."

He hasn't called me by that name since Rockpile. There was line he wouldn't cross, but now things have changed, and this was his way of acknowledging our status and claiming me. No longer would I have to choose between two boys. I had calm and chaos swirling around me. If I wasn't prepared for it, I might get dizzy.

"Morning," I say, and duck my head down to hide my smile.

Edward steps back and opens the car door. When I get in, there's a coffee waiting for me in the center console. I pick it up, and roll my eyes. Those boys aren't stupid, and they play me like a fiddle. And I'm gullible enough to fall for it.

Every day, Edward takes me to school.

Every day, he buys me a caramel latte.

Every day for the past two weeks, it's had Bella scribbled across the cup.

Every day, he does this for me without fail.

It's always been the same with him, but not today.

Today, I'm staring at the barista's barely legible handwriting and finding more meaning behind one word.

_Bean_.

***()()***

I'm surprised by how natural this feels. My boys show me the attention they share with each other. They make me feel wanted and important. Neither one of them are jealous towards the other and there's no competition. Jasper rests his chin on my seat and maintains closeness at all times. Edward's more inhibited, but goes with the flow when I grab his hand and place it on my leg. We laugh, teasing one another about their musical choices, and of course I win rights to the stereo. They bitch and moan when I switch it over to the current pop station.

I'm higher than I'd ever been and it's not induced by Jasper's weed or shoplifting an expensive handbag. These boys are the rhyme and reason to everything. They make my world rich and vivid. I see the brilliance in the color of the ocean and the flowers. The music even sounds better. I can't wait to eat. Food must be sinful now.

And sex?

I know how it is with Jasper: slow, beautiful, and deep.

But my other boy is still a mystery.

"Here we are," Edward says, and pulls up next to the curb. Alice's on the front lawn with a group of girls. She spots me in the car and waves. He groans and gives me a sideways glance. "Are you kidding me, Bean?"

"What?" I unbuckle my seat belt and follow his direct line of sight. "She's a friend."

"Yeah, but she's bad news," Jasper says delicately.

"She's a fucking statistic," Edward says less delicately. "And a damn drain on this country."

I smile, looking back and forth between my guys. "I'll be fine."

Opening the door, Jasper and Edward follow me out. Alice's walking towards the car, but stops dead in her tracks when she gets an unwelcoming glare. He's being the protective solider. I give him a swat on the arm and he redirects his gaze on me. Edward shrugs and leans against the door.

"So," I take my bag from Jasper's hands and smile up at him, "you're going back to school now?"

"Yeah, I've already missed two classes." He doesn't seem thrilled about leaving. This is a first. Before he had a sense of purpose and duty, but now I can see how it's nothing more but a necessary chore. "But I'll come down this weekend."

"We can always come up to you," I say, and take a peek over at Edward. He's still giving Alice the 'fuck off' stare. She's keeping her distance. "Maybe?"

Jasper laughs. "Yeah, that'll be rad. I really want to show you guys my greenhouse. Maybe we can smoke a little and hang out."

"Okay," I say, rising to my tiptoes as he grabs my face and kisses me. The noise around us fades. I can feel his heart in his fingertips and count each beat. They match my own. When he pulls away, the world comes back into focus, but seems less clear than before.

"I'll see you soon," Jasper says, giving me one last peck before getting into the car.

"Bye," I say, and it's crazy, but I already miss him.

Edward steps into me and rests his hands on my hips. "See you around three?"

"Sir, yes, sir, I'll be here."

It's the same old line we say to each other every day, but we never get out of the car and he never crosses the barrier of simple touching. I can't hide the way he affects me. It's clearly all over my face. I'm avoiding eye contact and nervously chewing on my bottom lip. Edward doesn't let this deter him, putting his fist underneath my chin and pushing my face up. There's a force behind everything he does. I'm being held tight and lifted into the air, his lips making a powerful impact on mine. The world not only falls away, it's ripped out from beneath my feet. I'm falling fast, twisted and consumed. I cling to his arms, digging my nails into his skin. He grunts, pulling away before I draw blood, leaving me panting and disoriented.

"Go learn some shit," he says with a wink and walks over to his side of the car.

I stand there stunned, rubbing the throb out of my lips, and thinking if Edward fucks as good as he kisses, then I'm in for a world of hurt.

It's not until the boys pull away and disappear down the street, does Alice have the nerve to approach me.

"You're fucking the Whitlock and Cullen boys?!"

"Excuse me?" I turn around to question her choice of plurals and notice the entire school is staring at me with the same shocked expressions. "Um…no, not really."

"Not really?" She mocks. "They both had their tongue down your throat, Bells."

Hell's Bells rings loudly in my ears. God, I hate that nickname. "Don't call me that," I say, and shove past her.

She stomps after me, flailing her arms, and making a lot of high-pitched noises. "Do you realize what this is going to do to your reputation? You can't skank it up with our tribe in public and expect people to ignore it."

"What's this tribe shit you keep talking about?" I wedge myself between the whispering crowds of teenagers as they call me surfer slut, or my favorite, gutter whore.

You would think in this day and age, the fifties mentality of slut-shaming would be a thing of the past, but small minds are inescapable. I'm not ashamed of being caught kissing my boys. If the school only knew what we did on Thanksgiving, they'd be spray painting whore and slut across my locker.

"Laguna is family, Bella," Alice says, her face scrunched up in disgust. "You can't just walk in and stake your claim on our men—especially not with the Whitlock and Cullen boys!"

"Staking my claim, huh?" I laugh, because it's silly and immature, and definitely not worth my energy. "Whatever, Alice."

"This shit is not a joke." She grabs me by the back of my hoodie and yanks me backwards.

The sudden attack throws me off, but I pull my sweater from her crazy grip and stare at her with wide eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm trying to be your friend," she says, but she's nothing more than a strung out, materialistic control freak. The rumors that will go around this school will most likely be started by her. Not that I'd ever trusted Alice, but further associating myself with her would lead to trouble. I can't allow her to create unnecessary drama in my life or put my boys at risk.

I see her for what she truly is. "Edward and Jasper were right about you."

She snaps her head up. "What did they say?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm done here." I ignore the bell as it rings and run straight for the door, not stopping for anything. This institution is suffocating. I can't breathe or relax here. Rose knew best. Everything you need to know from life was learned at home. That's what I planned to do. If anything, I'll just get my GED and go to college.

The high school bullshit and its power trips are too political for my liking.

I'm halfway down to the parking lot with my phone clenched tightly in my hand, ready to call my lifeline back to come and get me, when I look up and see my boys are already here.

Jasper props the door open on the passenger side and smiles. "On second thought, how would you like to take a trip to Berkeley right now?"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So in honor and celebration of 420, I decided to update this little ditty. Again bear with me on these updates. I know how frustrating it is to follow WIP, especially when their updates are as infrequent as mine. But no excuses, because I hate them. Thanks for reading. **

**To Annie Butts, who this story was written for, don't lose faith in me, hon. I'm still here. Thank you, Dee. Always messaging me on FB, reminding me there's readers who want to see this story through. iDanceCullen—who, btw, is just adorable. And Blonglegs, I just adore her.**

**Special thanks to my pre-reader, Brina…dude, the fact she sticks with me with this story means the world. I get you, baby doll. I'll make it all better with some Stephen Instagram porn. **

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Twelve**

I don't think twice about ditching school and getting into the car with my boys. Charlie will be pissed, but who cares what he thinks? It's the rebel in me to go against authority. I'll play now and deal with the consequences later.

"You coming?" Jasper doesn't get out, only patting the spot on this lap. It's an invitation I'll never refuse.

"Hell yeah." Taking my backpack off, I throw it in the backseat. Putting my arms around Jasper's shoulders, I ease myself down. It takes a second for me to get comfortable, but he's patient and waits for me to stop wiggling.

With all my limbs inside and accounted for, he closes the door behind me. I look back and forth between Jasper and Edward, their eyes squarely on me, and only getting darker with a need as strong as mine. It's intimidating, and the weight my decision becomes heavy.

It's just them and me—_alone_, for seven or more hours. I'm excited, and nervous, as the possibilities of what may or may not happen on this trip festers in my head.

Jasper nudges me with his head and I look down at him. He's silently asking for my permission, and with a nod and a wide smile, I give him the okay to slip his hand in between my thighs.

This causes several chain reactions: my breathing, nonexistent. And my heart? That shit hurts from pounding so damn hard. But what I feel the most, above all that, is Jasper. Every inch of him beneath me catches my attention. He continues to increase my agony by wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me close, his lips on my ear. Speaking low, secretive, he says things to me that make my mouth dry.

It's maddening, and Edward isn't helping the situation, either.

This guy barely touches me, but when he does—like right now, grazing my arm with his knuckles as he shifts the car into gear, makes me wonder what it'll be like when he really puts his hands on me. That's all I can think about. Especially when I watch him glare at nothing or strangle the steering wheel. I can still taste his kiss on my tongue. It's indescribable, but will always leave me chasing after it.

I squeeze my eyes close and count to three. I'm not going to survive an hour of this trip with these boys if I don't get my body and hormones under control.

"Who's got the radio?" Edward asks.

"Me, I do!" And I use this as an opportunity to get away from Jasper's words, otherwise I'll combust. He releases me, but just enough to reach the stereo knob. I turn it to my favorite station and blast the music.

It's not bubblegum pop, or even country, but has a beachy-reggae feel. It's something Jasper turned me on to a few months back when we we're getting high and surfing together. Edward hates it, and regrets allowing me free reign of the music in his car, but is gentleman enough to not demand me to change it. He shakes his head, grumbles something about Jasper's hippie influence, and peels out of the school parking lot.

We're on the 5 within minutes, breaking every law created by man and going way above the posted speed limit.

It's a rush.

Maybe I'm crazy, or asking for trouble by getting in this car and going on a road trip with two older boys without my father's permission. I've put Edward and Jasper at risk by being here (especially if we get pulled over by the cops), but I can't say no to them. I feel beautiful and alive when we're together. They rule every aspect of me. That's why I had to leave school today. The kisses they left me with kept my head spinning long after their lips departed mine and made learning anything at school next to impossible. I wasn't going to survive the day with the memory of my night with Jasper playing over and over in my head—not to mention what could happen with Edward and me, or what will happen with all three of us. The constant visits to the bathroom to relieve tension would raise suspicion.

How embarrassing it would be for me to get caught with my fingers deep inside?

No, this way's better.

I just needed a moment out of this ho-hum town and quality time with the only souls in this world that makes me smile—like really fucking smile, with sore cheeks and all.

***()()***

We're two hours into our trip and my phone has ringed seven times. I'm sure it would've been more, but by the grace of God, we drove into a lot of places were reception was shit. I didn't listen to the messages. All of them were from Alice. It's hard for me to wrap my head around her behavior. She's never acted like this before. I know there's guidelines and regulations in a 'tribe' that newcomer like me must obey by, but the whole thing is silly.

And it's not like anyone gave me a book to study from. One would think they'd be handing out tutorials the moment you step off the plane. I only found out about the strange Laguna gang a few months back. Alice took me to a party and explained the rules to me. I had to dress a specific way and date guys who weren't taken or chosen for a certain female.

I thought she was messing with me, but it's true, and there's a whole lot of crazy people who believe it. They follow it, and condemn people who don't. I had to know if my boys were just as fanatic.

"So, what's up with the tribe thing?" I ask.

Jasper and Edward laugh.

"What?" I feel stupid. "What's funny?"

"A few years ago, there was an incident…" Jasper pauses and hesitates. He rubs the back of his neck in effort to remove the blush.

"What you fucking worried about?" Edward grumbles. "She's here, isn't she?"

My anxiety and insecurity increases a million times over. "Okay, now you have to tell me, please."

"All right, here it goes." Jasper wraps his arms around me and takes a deep breath. "A few years back, Edward and I were down by the bluffs near Rockpile and a couple of guys from school caught us…" He peers up at me and watches my expression. When it doesn't change, he continues, "You know about us, right?"

"You're together," I say.

It's not a question, nor am I naïve. I saw it the night we played _Spin the Bottle_. These boys were closer than friends and loved each other deeply, intimately. But then there was something else about them and how they looked at me. I didn't realize it at first, but it was lust and want. There's not a doubt in my mind of what we could and will become.

They were just waiting for me.

"In a way," Jasper says, but he's still not willing to actually come out with it.

Edward barks. "They caught us fucking, Bean."

I'm startled by his crude bluntness, but his words create an undeniable aching and throbbing.

Jasper groans and presses his forehead into the crook of my neck. "You're a class act, man."

"What? You're going to tiptoe around the subject? How's that going to work?"

"It's called being tactful." Jasper's voice is muffled, his breath tickling my skin.

"It's called being a pussy." Edward locks eyes with me. "Are you going to run now?"

I shake my head, because that's all I can muster.

"Good." There's a smile, but a brief one, and it still kills me. The way he can flip my world without having to do anything but talk to me or even just glance at me.

It isn't fair.

"Come on, bro. It had to be said." Edward tried to rationalize his brute actions, but Jasper grips me tighter and refuses to surface. He's such a tender heart. Vulgarity isn't his thing. It's clear in the way his hands touch me.

But I want to assure him that everything's okay and I'm not going anywhere.

"Hey," I say, reaching up and caressing the side of his cheek, hoping to coax him out, "finish the story. What happened after they caught you?"

It works like a charm. He lifts his head and rests his chin on my shoulder. "We told them we were starting a club, or some shit, I can't really remember."

"We told them we were wrestling," Edward adds.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure how one act can be misconstrued as another, and still ended up unconvinced. "And they believed you?"

"Yeah, apparently you don't need your pants to wrestle." Jasper laughs.

"Our board shorts were on…" Edward peeks over at me, giving me a playful smirk, "…kind of."

"Anyway," Jasper interrupts by clearing his throat, "they thought we were cool and wanted to join our 'club'. We told them the only way to get in is to be jumped in."

"Like a gang," I say.

"Yeah, but my ass got carried away and I ended up beating the shit out of Eric," Edward says. "I put his ass in the hospital."

That triggers a memory about Jasper's family and paying people off. "Wait a minute, that's the kid you put into a coma?"

For some reason, I assumed he was fighting in school because of the loss of his parents and that's what led to his brief incarceration. I'm shocked and amazed it's because of his attraction to Jasper, yet oddly turned on by it.

Edward nods and frowns slightly. "Yeah, but I fucked up, and broke my favorite surfboard over his head."

"Your surfboard?" I say, appalled by his seemingly cold-hearted statement.

"It was a gift from his dad," Jasper whispers to me.

I feel like absolute shit for thinking the worst of Edward. All I want to do now is lean over and comfort him in some way, but stop myself. I redirect the conversation instead. "Then what? How did the tribe come about?"

"That's Jasper's doing," Edward says. "He was so far into Peyote back then, you would think he was a damn Indian."

"Hey, it made sense at the time. I thought it represented family."

Alice's shrill, cautionary voice comes back to me. She spoke of family in the tribe and how my boys were off limits. I didn't understand it then. I do now. The Cullen and Whitlock boys were the founders of the tribe. They were the center of Laguna Beach—like freaking royalty.

But it was all a cover up.

If these people only knew the truth of the lie that started it all. I'm sure their whole belief system would be destroyed. I'm tempted to be the wrecking ball to tear it all down, but I want my guys more than I want to be vindicated.

Edward's hand is suddenly on my leg. "The shit's gotten out of control now." He gives me sideways glance. "You better than all that, Bean."

I grin at his compliment, but my heart is taking on that painful rhythm again, and I can't stare at him for too long. It's crazy how he affects me. Out of nowhere too. Maybe one of these days I'll be brave enough to withstand being lost in those eyes. The deepest and the most powerful green I've ever seen. Hypnotic and dangerous, just like him.

Today's not that day.

***()()***

Two hundred miles in, Edward stops for gas and hands me twenty dollars to get snacks. I go inside to use the bathroom, but find myself distracted, walking up and down the tight aisle in the store. There's music playing above me from the speakers, it sets the mood. I don't know what comes over me, seeing as though I have money and can afford the dollar gummy worms, but I have a strong urge to steal something. It's not out of necessity or desire. It's a compulsion. My sickness, and it's long overdue.

The last time I've five-fingered anything was a month ago. It was one of Alice's _Dior_ watches, but seeing as it's owed to me, I can't really see it counting. If anything, it just moistened the tongue, but didn't satiate me. I'm surprised by how straight I've been since moving to Laguna. Surfing must've kept my mind occupied.

Now what? No waves around to deter me. I guess this sudden urge could be out of stress. My nerves overwrought. I've been trying to pretend like Charlie or the anger I'll face when I get home doesn't matter, but it does. Somewhere in the suppressed parts of my psyche, I want to impress the Chief. Make him proud of his little Bellarina.

I'm lying to myself. There's no excuse for what I'm about to do.

Gazing up at the clerk, I step into the candy rack and grab the bag of gummy worms. It goes into the front Kangaroo pocket of my hoodie. It feels good. I get that rush. That thrill. Every part of me feels alive. I sigh as the stress flows from my fingertips.

That should be good enough, right?

Not even close, because I'm a glutton and need more of my high.

Like an inhale of Jasper's superb weed, I go in for my next hit. This time it's bigger game, a family-sized bag of chips. I'm tucking it under my sweater, but it's a joke. I've gained twenty pounds with a fluffy, protruding belly. It's noticeable to the point of being ridiculous, and there's no way I'm getting out of here without being caught. My mugshot will likely be a part of their shoplifter's wall in the back of the store.

I know this and can predict this, but can't stop this.

All my rational thinking has gone away.

Waddling to the next aisle, I keep an eye on the clerk. She's busy taking money from people paying for gas. The line's out the door. This gives me a false sense of security. I make mistakes when I'm cocky, more than I usually would, and start snagging items I don't even like: beef jerky, a pack of sugared donuts, pumpkin seeds, and some pain relievers.

Every swipe gets me higher. I'm euphoric and untouchable. If I get out of here without being caught, it'll start my habit all over again. The steals will need to be bigger and challenging. The risk higher than before. I can see how my activities will escalate.

There's a small part of me that wants to be caught now.

Ducking behind another shelf, I grab a candy bar and slip it into my back waistband. There's a shadow looming over me. I can feel or sense this unknown person standing behind me.

"Shit," I say under my breath and slowly turn around, expecting the worst.

My heart stops when I see Edward there. He's got a smile, wider than I'd ever seen it, and his massive arms are folded over his chest. "Well, well, aren't you just a little thief?"

"I…" gulping back my guilt, I take the candy bar out and set it down, "have a problem."

"Clearly." He reaches into the front of my sweater and pulls out the chips. There's a look of approval. "Salt and Vinegar, excellent choice."

I roll my eyes. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not," he says, and he continues to dig through my loot. He's voices his astonishment with every item he discovers. "Jesus, Bean, why didn't you just hold up the store at gun point?"

"That's a felony. I'm obviously screwed up, but I'm not stupid," I say, and now I'm irritated by everything. The store, his gorgeous face, and the embarrassment I feel on my cheeks. "Thanks, or whatever."

Yes, I'm grateful in a way, Edward has saved me from making a huge mistake, but I feel unaccomplished and empty again. The high is popped like a hot air balloon and I'm spiraling and crashing hard towards the earth. It's a horrible way to be.

Free of all the stolen merchandise, I stomp towards the bathrooms in an effort to get away.

Edward doesn't let me off the hook that easily. He grabs my arms and spins me around to face him. I want to argue, but can't speak or think or anything—his eyes and lips are my undoing. There's a secluded corner of the store that he drags me into and pushes me up against the nearest wall. I can hear the cash register opening and closing with each sale in the distance. It keeps me in-tuned with the outside world.

If I let Edward suck me into him, I'll be a goner.

"Look," he whispers, strained and rough, squeezing my arms. I don't breathe, just listen, "you're above this petty shit."

He's got me all wrong. Most people do. They think I do these things because I want the loot. If they only seen my plastic tote back home. Filled with petty shit I didn't care about or will ever use. And I've never told anyone the real reason for my disease. Jasper was the only one to get me from the moment we met.

I think Edward deserves to know the real Bean, or more appropriately, the real Isabella—inside and out.

"I'm a Klepto." My voice is caught up in my throat, only a gargle of the truth comes out, and it's barely audible. "It's not about the things I steal, it's about the act of stealing."

This piques his interest. "What do you do with the things you steal?"

"Keep like a trophy. But more often than not, I give it to people for Christmas or on their birthdays." I smile and shrug. "Just don't ask me for a gift receipt."

The tension breaks, and Edward laughs. "If I get gummy bears for my birthday, should I be suspicious?"

"Well, not now," I say with an exasperated sigh. "You busted me. I have to get those worms on the legit."

He releases his grip on my arms and backs away a step or two. "What about Jasper? Does he know?"

"Jasper knows everything about me," I say, but quickly see how that statement does something to Edward. It's brief and he wipes it away before it has a chance to register. I double back to clarify myself. "You know, it's only because we've known each other longer and he's more open at times and..."

Edward grabs my face and shuts me up with a kiss. He makes a point to slow it down, make it meaningful, but it's not in his nature to be gentle or easy. He moves his hands from my face and puts them on my waist. He grips me tight and forcefully jerks our bodies together. I take fistfuls of his shirt, needing stability or I'll collapse, but also trying to match my breathing with his labored ones. Edward's mouth and tongue are strong, persuasive, and impatient. He taste like Heaven, but my mind is filled with sin.

When he pulls away, I'm dizzy and breathless.

He traces the bottom of my swollen, freshly fucked lips with his thumb, and says, "I'll get there."

***()()***

After using the bathroom to wash my face and calm myself down, I walk around the store with Edward to pick out snacks for our trip. He's surprised by the selection. Nothing I chose was anything I stuffed down my shirt. Maybe he understands that when it comes to me, there's no rhyme or reason. He pays for the gas and our snacks at the counter. The clerk smiles and hands me a stack of coupons. Not that we'll be coming back this way, but it's free and I take it.

It's sad how desperately I needed something that isn't paid for. Although giving and taking are two totally different things.

Whatever lie I have to tell myself to stop thinking about stealing.

Jasper's out by the car waiting for us. He's been there for thirty or so minutes. I didn't realize how long I'd been in there by myself before Edward decided to come investigate.

I tend to lose all track of time in my world of thievery.

"What took you guys so long?" Jasper asks and pushes himself off the car. "Did you decide to buy out the whole store?"

Edward lifts the two bags. "Not quite, but close."

"I couldn't decide what I wanted," I add.

Jasper would never judge me for my deeds, but I didn't want him to see me as less than perfect.

"Let me see." He snags one of the bags from Edward and opens it. Like a kid on Christmas morning, he grins. "You guys know me far too well."

I want to take credit for it, but it was all Edward. He might not know me, but he knows his friend…_inside and out_.

"Bean, you're driving." Edward tosses the keys to me.

I'm not prepared for his sudden decision and fumble with the keys in a sad attempt to catch them. They slip in between my fingers and end up falling to the ground. I pick them up, blinded by the glint of the sun reflecting off the silver dog chain with Sergeant Cullen's name stamped on it. "Um, really? Are you sure? I'm not the best driver."

"You'll be fine." Edward walks over to me and opens the door. "It's a straight shot to Berkeley. If you get tired, we can always take over for you."

"Okay," I say, still apprehensive. He helps me into the car, and adjusts my seat and steering wheel. I feel snug. My feet reach the pedals and I can see over the wheel. I'm not too little at all. "What kind of car is this?"

"It's a 69' Camaro," Jasper quips, getting into the passenger seat.

"Yes, and it's my baby." Edward leans down and gets real close to my face. "Treat her right."

"No pressure or anything," I scoff.

Edward laughs. "Here, this will keep you focused." He pulls out a bag of gummy worms from under his shirt and drops them on my lap.

I gasp with disbelief. "Did you swipe this?"

"Happy belated birthday." He buckles me in and closes the door.

I'm too shocked to say anything, but watch this boy walk around the front of the car. My heart flutters, knowing with his acceptance, I'm getting closer to falling for him.

Jasper is a witness to this, and observant to everything, snags the gummies from me and says what I'm thinking. "He gets you."

The words are so simple, but carry much weight. Never in my life did I think one person, let alone two, would really see me and not some altered version of a person they wanted me to be.

"Yeah," I smile, feeling the burn of his kiss lingering on my lips, "I think he really does."

***()()***

The best part about driving is listening to my boys talk about their business. Jasper's excited about his newest crops. He's been able to increase the THC in the weed. This is huge. The high will be more potent, vivid, and longer. More bang for the buck. I'm impressed by his knack for plants and the brilliance behind it. He's meticulous about the biology. He knows what grows best in what soil or how much light it needs. The school has no idea what he's growing in the campus greenhouse. They believe his words because he speaks them with confidence. Even if you've never seen a marijuana plant up close, you know it's not oregano.

"The Dean wants me to package the spices for her," Jasper says. "It'll make a great Christmas gift for her daughter-in-law."

Edward snorts from the backseat. "Won't she be in for a surprise?"

I only catch a glimpse of his eyes in the rearview mirror. That's the downside of driving, I rarely see him. He ducks down and disappears. If it wasn't for Jasper to keep him talking, I would forget he was even in the car.

"She knows what I'm doing." Jasper glances my way and catches me mid-yawn. "Do you need a break?"

We've been on the road for three hours. A few stops to fill up the gas tank wasn't enough time to stretch my muscles and get blood flowing back in my limbs. I'm kind of tired, but also looking for a release.

"Yeah," I bit my lip, a little hesitant to ask, "and maybe we can…"

Jasper chuckles and rolls his eyes. The thing about him anymore, he's able to read me by the littlest signals in my facial expressions or body language. He knew what I wanted even before I did. "Pull over at the next stop."

Edward pops his head up. "You didn't tell me you were carrying."

"Me without weed is like you without that damn gun," Jasper says.

About a half of a mile up the road, I see a vacant rest stop. Its backdrop is filled with green hills and thousands upon thousands of windmills. Parking near the restrooms, we get out and stretch our legs. Jasper grabs his Rasta bag with the draw strap from the trunk. The colors are a bright red, yellow, and green with a huge pot leaf on the front. People weren't idiots or blind. They knew what my boy was about, but he never bothered to lie or attempt to hide it from them, either.

I liked that. He's easy. Honest. I didn't have to guess or work hard to decode what Jasper's thinking.

Edward's different. The front he puts up is for his protection. He's brutal with honesty—that's not the issue, but trying to figure out what's going on in that head of his is like a complex math problem. I'd get a headache long before I'd ever solve that equation.

"Where do you want to set up?" Jasper asks Edward.

"There's a covered picnic table that's away from the road and traffic," he replies.

"Sounds good. Come on, Bean." Jasper throws his arm over my shoulder and leads me up the hill.

It's a short walk, but seems far away from all civilization. We have a great vantage point of the highway and entrance to the rest stop. That eases my anxiety of getting caught. Marijuana has made large strides in America with a few states legalizing it, but it still has a way to go. Especially with Jasper's load. My mouth drop when he pulled a pound of weed out of his bag. That carrying comment made by Edward seemed like a damn understatement.

"Jesus, man," Edward echoes my thoughts. "What the hell are you doing traveling with that much weed? If we got pulled over by the cops and they found that..."

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave it in my dorm. My roommate would've jacked it while I was gone. I had to take the risk."

Edward opens the bag and the sweet aroma of its quality hits our noses hard. "Fuck."

"Is this the same stuff we smoked last night?" I asked Jasper, unable to hold back my gleeful, excited smile.

"Yeah," Jasper says, and he's proud—as he should be. "That's why I couldn't leave it behind. This is the golden ticket."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward blows him off and holds out his hand expectantly, "just give me the damn pipe."

"I don't have my pipe." Jasper gives me a pointed look.

I blush, avoiding both their gazes as I dig through my purse and hand it over to him. There's no excuse. "Sorry."

"Unbelievable." Edward laughs at me and packs the bowl.

Jasper nudges me with his shoulder and winks. "Don't worry about it, Bean. Everything of mine is yours anyway."

Hooking my arm in his, I snuggle in close and repeat the words in my head that I long to say one day out loud to him: _I love you._

"All right," Edward holds the pipe and Bic out to me, "ladies first."

Taking it from his fingers, I put it to my lips. Edward lights the bowl, giving off a cherry glow, and I inhale deep. The smooth smoke curls and flows down into my chest. I didn't learn from last night and end up taking too much in. I'm coughing with my head between my legs. Jasper rubs my back, and over my hacking, I faintly hear him tell Edward to take it easy. The weed's powerful. But Edward's stubborn and doesn't heed Jasp's warning.

"Fuck," Edward chokes out, but not long after he's coughing too.

"What did I tell you?" Jasper says.

I lift my head up in time to see him take a gentle hit. He's smart about it. The bowl barely flickers, but the smoke that comes rolling out between his pressed lips is thick. He sees me staring and bends down to blow the rest into my mouth. It's the perfect amount. The high of the weed comes fast and hard like a wave. I roll and tumble through the ocean, sandwiched between my boys like a buoy. Their eyes on me, waiting for me to make the first move. Placing my hands on each one of their thighs, I claim my ownership.

The Cullen and Whitlock boys are mine.

Then in a slow blink of an eye, everything happens at once. Jasper's lips are on my neck and Edward's hand is creeping underneath my shirt. It's overwhelming and sensational to have these boys on me. The weed numbs my thoughts but amplifies my senses. I turn my head towards Edward and find his mouth. He kisses me in a reckless way. There's no direction, just want and need. I whimper when his nails dig into my skin on my rib cage. A shiver shoots up and down my spine as he edges the tips of his fingers on the outer hem of my bra.

I curse myself for wearing one, but hindsight's only 20/20.

Jasper's on my left, trailing his kisses along my neck and down my shoulders. He glides his hands along my arms, keeping it chaste. It's sensual, every one of his touches. They're feathered and light on my skin, tender, and inspiring goosebumps to multiply and rise. It's crazy to have both senses at once: rough and smooth, hot and cold, hard and soft, chaos and calm. All of it's so confusing, overpowering everything in me, and I feel like exploding into a million stars.

My mind's made up the moment Edward slips his hand under my bra and touches me—like really fucking touches me, hand gripping my breast, thumb and finger pinching and tugging my increasingly hardening nipple. Yes, I want this, and need this more than air in my lungs, and without a doubt, I'm determine to follow this through…

Unfortunately, we're no longer alone.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Holy Schnikes! I never thought this chapter would be written, granted it took several months, but that's been several months of not writing a single damn word. Again, my apologies. I'm really trying, but life demands more attention than it used to. I wanna thank the peoples who encouraged me on FB and Twitter and hounded me to get back to it. I'm looking at you, Annie, Dee, May, and Paola.**

**Special thanks to Brina, my pre-reader, who tells me constantly, "Shut the fuck up, all right? Stop doubting yourself. I don't read shit." I love her.**

**Oh, ya...read Love Hurts by Maplestyle. Seriously, it's fucking awesome, and will kill you softly.**

***All the mistakes are mine**

**Chapter Thirteen**

It's the tires on gravel in the distance I hear, and my eyes open enough to see a travel bus pull into the rest area and park next to Edward's car. There's a storm of older ladies, with colorful floppy hats and bulky cameras draped around their necks, piling out one by one. Their chatty voices carry over the dusty hills and yank me out my cannabis induced bubble. They're a hundred feet away and pointing in our direction. It won't be long before they stumble across a young girl with her shirt pulled up to her chin, and two beautiful, but much older, boys kissing and touching her in ways that'll make anyone blush.

A part of me doesn't care if we get caught. There's a thrill and a danger of being in a compromising situation in front of strangers. It fans my rebellious flame. But more than any of that, I've waited and wanted this moment with my boys for so long, needing to feel them on me just to breathe steady, and it's finally here.

What if I never get this chance again?

I turn my head in Jasper's direction, allowing him to kiss me deeper, ignoring the warning that's going off in my head. Focusing on Edward's coarse hands, he squeezes and yanks on me, pulling my lips away from Jasper. I'm overwhelmed with his mouth, how dangerous and forceful his tongue is, pushing against mine, demanding a response in return.

I feel my will collapsing as my body succumbs to his wants and needs. There's a sigh of regret in my chest, because I can't forget about our uninvited guests and their guests.

Vaguely, only if just a glance, did I notice the two rent-a-cops that came out of the bus a second later. It makes me take pause. I know nothing good will end of this trip if the men in borrowed blue, eager to be the hero, come within a sniffing range of Jasper's pound of home-grown chronic.

Then there's me, an underage complication, to think about. They'll have to call my legal guardian. And once Charlie gets a minute and sobers up, he'll get all fatherly on me and press charges against Jasper and Edward without batting an eye.

What will happen to us after that?

I don't want to find out.

"Stop…" I break away and find my voice, but it's resistant and soft, overpowered by the indulgence of Edward's harsh lips of hostility and Jasper's tender kisses of amity.

The conflict of what I want and need rages inside of me. I don't want to cease fire, but I need to, or this might be the last time I have my boys like this. That fear rips me out of my stoner haze. It gives me the clarity to move away from their firm mouths and persuasive touches to speak up.

"...hey, hey, guys, please we can't…we gotta stop."

They do, with no questions asked. I'm met with their eyes on me, a little bloodshot and glossy, but they're paying attention. My breath is taken away by how responsive they're to my voice, no matter how ragged it comes out or how little the conviction behind it is.

I'm smart enough to know this type of devotion doesn't happen every day.

"What's wrong?" Jasper slips his hand out from underneath my shirt and allows the cold air to blow against my exposed chest.

I nod towards the sea of white hair, and cloud of formaldehyde, mixed with _Wind Song, _marching our way. "We've got company."

Edward's a soldier. He lives in a constant war zone. It's not surprising that his initial reaction is to protect. He reaches for the gun in his back waistband, but relaxes when he sees the danger is minimal.

Maybe a few pinched cheeks, but that's about it.

"Jesus Christ," he grumbles.

"Yeah," Jasper's packing up his weed, "it's time to go."

I know it's the best thing, but hearing it out loud makes it that more final. I can still feel the memory of their hands on my skin. The absence of their touch stings and creates this painful ache in my stomach. I suppress my frown, fixing my bra and skewed shirt. I'm looking less fucked and more presentable now.

Edward clicks his tongue in a '_tsk_', and I'm not entirely positive, but I think he says, "What a shame," under his breath.

I try to avoid looking him in the eyes, but glance up anyway. He's unapologetic and shrugs. That's when I know I heard him right. My face heats up and prickles. I look away before he can see through me.

"Hello there!" one of ladies calls out to us. The rent-a-cop's are keeping an eye on them from afar, but stay posted by the bus. My paranoia is kicking in—especially since Jasper's nowhere near being packed up.

Edward slides the bong behind him and stands up to block their view. "How we doing?" he asks.

"Few more minutes," Jasper replies.

"You've probably got less than that," Edward says.

I glance up to see four women standing underneath our covered picnic table and getting a big ol' whiff of Jasper's weed. It's a powerful, sweet stench, and hangs in the air. They're quiet, assessing the situation, but soon put two and ten together. When I'm stoned, time slows down and the world around me gets clear. My senses are amplified, and I can read anyone by the littlest of twitch of their brow.

But where I expect to see distaste, or the look of disapproval, (just like the one my nana used to give me every time she learned I got caught shoplifting or warned me about the horrors of drugs) I see excited eyes and bright smiles instead.

"You wouldn't mind," the leader of the group, the most outgoing one, steps forward, and Edward tenses, "if we took a hit or two, would you?"

Okay. That didn't just happen, did it? I might be a little high still.

"Not at all," Jasper says, and I look over my shoulder at him in shock, thinking he's answering my unspoken thoughts, but he's pulling his stash back out of the bag and trying not to smile. "I take it you ladies prefer the rolled joint."

They all nod and rush the table. Edward's thrown off by their eagerness, but Jasper's at home. He knows the power his weed has over people—doesn't discriminate against age or anything. It's the purest plant, and I really take notice of how big this business of his is going to get.

"Here, Gladys," Jasper holds out the rolled joint, a fat blunt, to the leader—the one who started it all—and she's puffing on that thing before I can blink.

I'd never seen this type of need in my life, other than Charlie, but even he showed more restraint than this group of older ladies. I smile at Gladys as she hollows in her cheeks and coughs uncontrollably, knowing damn well that'll be in me in fifty years.

They pass the joint between each other and then to us. We're all in a circle now, laughing and getting high. I listen as they tell stories of the days as hippies and how they never had anything this good. The smoke weaves its way through the cracks in the overhead canopy and into the sky. I watch its escape with my boys at my side, each one of their hands resting on the inside of my thighs. This feels natural. It's only when one of the older ladies, I think her name's Sue, says something about our arrangement, do I really see how unusual and misunderstood it is.

"I can't get over how you all think this thing of yours is going to work." She's got a southern twang in her voice and conservative beliefs. The only risky thing she's ever done was smoke weed—oh, and marry the son of her daddy's enemy. "Someone's going to get hurt." Her eyes go directly to me.

I say nothing, but look away and take a big hit off the remaining roach.

From an outsider's perspective, this relationship was doomed to fail. It's hard for two people to love each other for any length of time and stay happy. Having three people trying to maintain one relationship seemed impossible. I didn't know how or if this thing with Jasper and Edward was going to work. That's always been a concern of mine, but because of Sue and her dismissing of our feelings for one another, I was determined, hell or high water, to prove her wrong.

Then my boys speak up and do it for me.

"We know the dangers involved, ma'am," Jasper's the polite and diplomatic one, "but we'll make sure she's loved…"

"And thoroughly fucked," Edward says, and he's less polite and more challenging. Which Sue gasps and puts a hand over her chest, almost as if she's offended, but then she gets it.

"Well, young lady," she offers me a smile and congratulatory wink, "good for you."

I bite my lip and nod, avoiding her stare now for another reason.

By the end of our pit-stop, Jasper sells over three hundred dollars of his weed. Even the rent-a-cops, the one's I'd been worried about, couldn't resist buying a few dime bags. I write down a P.O. Box address and a disposable cell phone number on notebook paper, per Jasper's request, and pass it out. The ladies vow to contact him and spread the word among their friends about his superb chronic.

The seed's been planted.

***00***

We arrive in Berkeley around four in the afternoon and that's when Charlie starts calling me. I don't pick up and let it go to voicemail. He calls me fourteen times in total and leaves six messages. It doesn't take a genius to know Alice is behind this. Dad wouldn't call me unless he got word of where I was or who I was with. It's not surprising coming from her. She has a vindictive streak, and with me dating Laguna's 'Untouchables', I figured it was only a matter of time before she goes snitching to Dad.

I only hope he doesn't go and do something drastic, like call the police.

"You can't avoid him forever." Jasper bumps me with his shoulder.

"No, I know." The phone's lit up, vibrating in my hand, and I shove it into the pocket of my hoodie. I glance up, trying to take in the massive school in front of me, and enjoy this beautiful, unusually warm day, but I can't focus. "I just don't want to deal with him right now. Whatever he's got to say to me, will only put me in a bad mood." I force a smile on my face, but the stress breaks through and I fail. "What if he calls the cops?"

Jasper continues to walk, but slows to my snail pace. "He won't."

"But what if he does?"

"But he won't, okay?" Jasper stops, but waves Edward on and stands in front of me. Smoothing out the frown lines on my forehead with his thumb, he smiles, which puts me at ease. "Don't worry so much."

I groan and let my head fall to his chest. He wraps his arms around me and hugs tight. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"If I could hide you under my bed, I would," he pauses, and I can sense the smile falling away from his face, "but I've got a feeling somebody wouldn't be so keen on the idea."

And that somebody makes his presence known with a grunt. "What's going on?"

"Charlie's calling her and she's worried he's going to call the cops," Jasper says.

"He won't do that," Edward says, so matter-of-factly.

"That's what I told her."

But they don't know Dad like I do. He warned me, on several occasions, that he had no problem putting my boys behind bars. I don't want to take the chance of him making good on his threats.

Then, of course, as if on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Jasper feels it against his stomach and Edward hears the hum. I need to turn the damn thing off. Charlie's not going to quit anytime soon and there's no point in torturing myself over something I can't change.

"Bean," Jasper pulls me in closer and breathes a sigh, "do you want Edward to take you home?"

My time with him hasn't nearly been enough, and I vehemently shake my head.

"He's not going to do anything," Jasper reassures me, but at this point, I'm milking his touch and attention. I can't make myself move away from his smell and warmth. My heart squeezes with need and his closeness alleviates it.

There's silence, one I've known to recognize when my boys are having their telepathic conversations. My curiosity is the only thing to remove me from Jasper's hypnotic embrace, and I peek up to see that I'm right. Edward's standing a foot or so away with an intense gaze in his eyes and Jasper's nodding.

"Okay," I push him at arm's length and look back and forth between the two, "what's going? What are you guys plotting?"

Jasper stares down at me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "After I show you guys around and we have some dinner, Edward's going to drive you home."

"I can't go home," I say, and it's the truth…or simple avoidance on my part.

"If Berkeley was a permanent thing for me, I'd tell you pack your bags and come here, but it's not. Once this is done, I'm home with you guys. I need you two to be there and get our business going, okay?"

I might have choked on my own spit when he called it 'our' business. Maybe he's just implying to Edward and him, but it's enough to make me feel better. I'm flying with it, and now, all the problems with Charlie seem insignificant.

"Okay," I say, and my happiness in that moment is not forced nor does it falter.

"Good." Jasper can't help but kill everyone within a twenty mile radius with the smile of mischief he gives Edward and me. "Now, do you guys wanna see where I grow our weed?"

***00***

Jasper's Greenhouse is off campus, but close enough for people to walk to, and it's substantial. Other students contribute with their own projects, a little garden here and some exotic plant there. The majority of the space belongs to my boy. He's got two rows of Edward's Afghan plants, all within several stages of growth. The one Jasper's been harvesting and drying out leaves from is the biggest—and clearly marijuana.

I'm dumbfounded that he's allowed to grow an illegal drug and have full support of the university. How do other students not realize what he's got and steal from him? It seems like a huge, and highly dangerous, risk to be flaunting it as openly as he does.

Even Edward had the same concerns, but Jasper assured us both that the plants were safe, nobody was stealing from us, and most of the students and teachers who came through the greenhouse had no clue. Which seemed a little far-fetched, and Jasper agreed he didn't think he would get away with it, but soon he discovered how pampered and somewhat ignorant people in his school were.

"If the weed isn't in a baggy and looks like a crumpled pile of oregano, people just don't see this plant as marijuana. I even managed to convince them that some of it was Poison Ivy."

He even posted signs: "_Beware. Don't Touch. Poison Ivy_."

Seeing Jasper in his element is simply stunning and beautiful. The joy and light that came out of him overwhelms me. I've never been so proud and so in awe of somebody. He's brilliant, thought provoking, and a pure being.

Yes, weed wasn't an honorable profession, and mostly it got you jail time as a reward, but Jasper wasn't a drug dealer.

Not in the sense that Edward was.

Sure, both of them seen the dollar signs in the business, how quick and profitable selling weed would be—especially this weed, this first-class chronic grown from the strongest, sweetest seeds in the world. Jasper saw an opportunity to do some good, expand his hippie beliefs, and maybe use whatever money they earned to help people.

These were the things he wanted to do. I just wanted to be there with him when he does—and he will. I know that more than I know my own name.

After touring the greenhouse and learning a few things about soil, we all went out to eat at Jasper's favorite restaurant. It was an Indian food joint. _The House of Curries_ intimated me at first. I wasn't sure if I'd be into it, seeing as though I've never ate that type of food before. Jasper told me if I liked spice and could handle that, I would love it.

He was right. I'd ordered a simple dish called, '_Plain naan, rice and chicken with bitter melon'_. It wasn't outlandish like some of the several plates my boys had gotten, but it was good. It was a nice way of tipping my toe into the Indian Food world and I'd really enjoyed it.

And after smoking weed all day long, I devoured it like I hadn't eaten in years.

Around nine-thirty, we drove Jasper back to campus and dropped him off. I didn't want leave and kissed him until my lips went numb. He promised over and over to call me bright and early tomorrow. I nodded and tried to find comfort in that.

In a few weeks he'll be home for vacation. I couldn't wait. Because letting him go was hard. Every time it gets harder and harder. I feel myself falling more in love with him and needing more and more of him to sustain me. It's so difficult to breathe without him.

Only Edward was able to put air back into my lungs and keep me alive.

During our long trek home, we talked—like really talked, about anything and everything. He's allowing me to know him. That window he'd opened just a crack was getting wider and wider. I'd capitalized on it, pushing him in ways that didn't seem possible weeks ago. Maybe I'm pressing my luck, but he doesn't shut down or pull away from me. I can see it in his eyes, he's desperate for me to see him—who he really is, and not to believe the man he's become. Because the Edward he wants me to know isn't the rough, injured solider, whose dealing with some shit from his time in war, but just a sweet boy with a few scars.

I trace the one on my chest and smile. We're both damaged goods.

Pulling in front of Charlie's apartment complex, I see every light in the house is still on. Either he passed out from hyperglycemia or he's up waiting for me. God, I know it's the latter, and this cramps my stomach. I grimace, not at all ready for this.

It's nearly six in the morning and the sun is creeping up. I barely got any sleep in the car. Maybe three hours, at best. It's stupid, but I just wanted to be with Edward and talk with him. He didn't touch me much, and that's a shame, but it was all worth it.

But now, here I am, back in Laguna, and this was my life.

I made a hell of a mess. It's about time I clean it up.

"You need me to go with you?" Edward asks.

"I don't know." And that's an honest answer, because I don't know what Charlie will do or who he's called. I've got over forty missed calls and seventeen messages. I still don't have the guts to listen to them. "Maybe, you can come up to the apartment and wait outside for me?"

Edward nods, and we get out of the car.

He stays beside me with his hand gingerly placed on my lower back. It's so simple and chaste, but the heat of his touch generates comfort. I'm nervous to face my fate, but not scared of it. There's a peace within me, knowing no matter what, my boys are here to stay.

"Do you need me to come in?" Edward asks as we stop right before the door. He's wary, protective even.

"No, I should be…" I'm cut off short as Dad swings the door open and steps out onto the porch. My heart is pounding painfully as the air gets sucked right out of me. I stare up at the man I've only known for years as Chief Swan. The worry he harbors for me is evident, but is wiped away the second he sees I'm safe, but his anger erupts when he sees who I'm with. "Hi, Charlie, what's up?"

"Inside, Isabella," he orders with gritted teeth. "NOW!"

"I'm sorry," I mumble, and squeeze past him.

The apartment has been cleaned. Like damn near spotless. No weed is on the table. All his pipes and bongs are put away. And the dishes are washed. It smells like a freaking pine forest in here. Charlie's been sober and level-headed for some time now. It doesn't really dawn on me why he's cleaned the house until I see his badge out on the coffee table.

I swing around. "You called the cops on me?"

Edward has followed me inside and standing with his hands behind his back. I recognize his stoic stance as military. My boy is in solider mode. Charlie slams the door, and he's muttering to himself. He's trying to gain control of the situation, but he's thrown off because he expected me to come home alone or with Jasper.

Not this, and certainly not Edward.

"Damn right, I did. Where the hell were you? Why didn't you pick up your phone?" Dad fires off question after question while trying to keep his anger in check.

"I was in Berkeley."

"Why were in Berkeley? Jasper, right? You were with him."

"And Edward," I say.

"Edward?"

"Right here, sir." He holds out his hand, which Dad doesn't shake.

He shoots me a pointed look. "I swear to God…"

"He's just a friend, Dad!" And it sickens me to say that, especially since my boy tenses and frowns at the term.

"Just a friend, huh? How old are you, Sailor?"

"Twenty-four, Sir."

I collapse on the couch and jam my palms into my eyes. "Dad, it's not like that…" But it's too late, I knew what was coming.

"You do know that my daughter is seventeen, right?"

Edward doesn't flinch. "Yes, Sir."

"And you still have the balls to walk into my house?" Charlie walks over to the kitchen islander and picks up the phone. "I'm calling the cops."

"No!" I jump up from the couch and rip the receiver out of his hand. "You can't do that to me, Dad. I'll never forgive you."

"Isabella," he says, using that god-awful name again, and makes me want to scream, "I told you what would happen if you didn't listen to me."

"But you don't understand."

"While you're under my roof, you'll follow my rules and that's it! If you don't like it, you can pack up your shit and move back in with your mom."

I shake my head and fight against the tears.

"Or she can leave with me," Edward says out of nowhere.

"What?" Both Charlie and I say.

"Pack what you can, okay?" he says to me, but doesn't move from his spot by the door.

"What? Are you sure?" I ask.

He glares at me in response.

"Okay," I whisper, wiping a wayward tear from my cheek with the back of my hand, and heading straight for my bedroom.

Everything's happening so fast, I don't have time to think about what I'm doing and why. Charlie's pissed and it's all my fault. I should've called and let him know where I was or something. He was worried, I get it, but continually to threaten my boys with the law is uncalled for. If he'd at least given them a chance or gotten to know them before making his judgments, he'd see they weren't that bad and great guys, but he refuses to be decent.

I try to listen for yelling or commotion as I pack, but it's quiet—too quiet. That worries me more. Zipping up my duffel bag, I throw it over my shoulder. Giving my surfboard a goodbye kiss, promising to come back for her later, I go out into the living room.

Edward's at the door and Dad's on the couch. Neither of them are talking or looking at each other. They barely react when I come into the room. The silence is eerie. I gulp down my nerves and take brave steps towards the door.

"You ready?" Edward asks.

I nod and glance over at Dad. "I'm sorry."

"About what?" He looks up at me, so tired. "Not calling your dad to let him know you're okay? Or lying to his face about everything?"

"You wouldn't let me see them if I told you the truth."

"Damn right, I wouldn't. They're grown men and you're still my little girl—Jesus!" He jams the edge of his palms into his eyes and rubs them. Like father like daughter. "But it's obvious you're going to do as you please."

There's no fight left in him. "Dad…"

"Just go, Bella," he says, getting up from the couch and going into the kitchen. "Leave before I change my mind."

I hear clanging of pans on the counter and drawers opening and then closing. He doesn't come back out, but I see smoke wafting its way into the living room.

Charlie has given up on sobriety.

He's given up on me.

"Come on." Edward wraps his arm around my waist and gently pulls me towards the door. "It's going to be okay."

"I know." Blinking once, and then twice, I flush out the remaining tears. "See you, Charlie."

***00***

Edward takes me home to his beach house on the west end of Laguna. It's a block away from Rockpile. The place is small, respectively, with two bedrooms and a bath, but the location makes it worth half a million. The sun shines bright through the western windows. It gives the place a homey feel—and man, if it doesn't smells just like my boy. I find myself in the doorway breathing it all in. Edward doesn't find this odd, only grabbing my duffel bag and flinging it on the nearest couch.

Unable to move in either direction, I stand there and wriggle my fingers nervously. My heart is thumping so loudly in my ears and blocks out the crashing waves. Being here with him—alone, is uncharted territory. I don't know what to say or how to act.

"So," I take a furtive step towards him, "this place seems nice."

Edward rubs the back of his neck and takes a step towards me. "You can sleep in my bed if you want."

My mind goes right to the gutter and I blurt out my first thought. "With you?"

His head snaps up, and whatever qualms he had are gone. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah," I say, again without thinking. But it's the truth. Every second I spend with him my need to be touched and kissed with his mouth grows. It's actually reached a point of being unbearable. "Don't you?"

He shakes his head and chuckles. "No, Bean, I don't want that."

My heart deflates… a lot. I try to smile and act unaffected by the blow. "Okay, I'll sleep on the couch then. Or is that a futon?"

"It's a futon," he whispers to me as I pass him, but I don't get far. He grabs my arm and pulls me back. "Tell me I'm not a consolation prize."

I'm stunned by the anguish in his voice and his refusal to look at me. "You're not a consolation prize."

He tightens his grip on my arm and snuffs me out with the intensity of his eyes. "I'm not soft like Jasper."

"I don't want you to be."

He's got both of my arms now, walking me back to the nearest wall and pushing me hard against it. He holds me there, staring down at my lips and licking his own. "Are you sure about that?"

I nod, silently pleading with him to kiss me.

Then he does, crashing his mouth roughly to mine, and showing me exactly how unlike Jasper he really is.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Hey, I'm baccck! So, this is the chapter you all been trudging through FOURTEEN chapters for. Hopefully it's been worth the wait. I like my Edwards pretty rough, so here's your first and last warning. Since this chapter is short, I'll try to post another one later this week. **

**In the meantime, show me so love. **

**Also, a big boob thanks to my pre-reader, Brina. She's an Edward-whore (self-proclaimed, don't-cha-know) and nothing gets by without the B stamp of approval.**

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

My boy warned me the first night we met and he warns me now. He's not soft. There's nothing tender or romantic about this Seal. He'll never whisk me off my feet, shower me with flowers, or even give me the storybook kind of love.

That's not what he's about.

But I don't fucking want that—not from him. I want to be thrown against the wall and devoured by his mouth. I want to taste the weed and peppermint on his tongue. I want to get lost in the pain as he squeezes my arms and deepens the kiss. I want everything he's offering. I want this.

He leans all of his weight into me and I'm pinned, completely trapped between him and the wall. I squirm, burning from the inside out with need to touch him, but the more I try to move, the more he exerts his power over me. I'm at his whim, captured and liberated.

All I can do is put back forth the effort of my kisses he's putting into me. I match his intensity. It works. He eases back, but only enough to bite my bottom lip. He's teasing me, scraping his teeth across and sucking on it. I whimper from the ache of needing him and plead for more. My boy grunts and attacks my mouth, stealing the last bit of my breath. He takes fistfuls of my hair, yanking my head back and shoving his tongue down my throat. My world's spinning. I grasp the sleeves of his shirt, pulling them over his bulging, flexed biceps, needing something strong to hold on to.

I'm barely managing to stay upright, and Edward decides to up the ante. He keeps me occupied with his harsh kisses, painfully delicious, as he wedges his knee between my legs and pries them apart. My heart pounds harder as he unbuttons my shorts. It stops when he slips a hand down the front of my panties and plunges two fingers into me.

I jerk away by surprise and impulsively push my hips into him with need, wanting him to feel deeper and more of me. He holds me still by the neck, curving his fingers upwards and pressing against my bladder. That urge is building. It's uncomfortable, but I'm close. My body tenses and clenches around him.

I hold my breath, but then it comes to screeching halt.

Edward uncurls his fingers and pulls out, slow and deliberately. There's a smile felt on my sensitive skin as he kisses me along my chin and neck. He draws out a long stroke between my lips, rubbing my clit vigorously with his thumb. Widening my stance, I raise my leg and hook it around him. He's got better access and takes full advantage. Thrusting back into me with force, I lose my damn mind. My breathing erratic, becoming more labored, as every slide and brushing of his knuckles against my clit creates this undeniable roughness and friction.

"Oh, God," I moan and throw my head back.

There's a faint sound of fabric ripping and my grip has some slack. I cringe. He curses a whispered fuck as his hand stills. He's mad. I can tell by the way he's breathing now, slow…even.

I open my eyes and gasp at the rawness staring back at me.

There's no starry-eyed gaze or hearts of infatuation oozing out of his stern, sage greens. They're cold, hard. My boy's a savage, with only one want and one need in this life: me.

He doesn't say a word as he rips off my shirt and tosses it over his shoulder. I'm disoriented by how fast he has me lifted up and back pressed against the wall. I brace myself and wrap my legs around his waist. He grabs my chin and pulls me into a kiss. It's different somehow, almost as if he's grown impatient. Not at all coordinated and rushed. He's all over the place. I have the same urgency, needing his rough mouth and firm tongue somewhere else on me.

"Had enough?" he pants against my lips.

I shake my head. "Not even close."

He yanks me away from the wall and carries me to his room. I hold on tight and bury my nose into his neck. I'm well of aware how creepy it is to keep sniffing on someone all the time, but I can't stop from doing it. The smell of my boy is an addiction.

Edward kicks the door closed and throws me on the bed. He's on top of me before I can blink. My shorts and panties off my body and discarded. My bra unhooked and tossed. It's strewn across the shade on a side Tiki lamp.

He's taking off his torn shirt now. I sit up and help him with his jeans and boxers. We don't speak, our fingers fumbling with one another. There's too much need in both of us to have him inside of me. When he's fully exposed to me, I can't look away from his primitive beauty—all muscles, tats, and scars.

Edward's grown too impatient. He puts his arm around me and lifts me up on his lap. My legs splayed and wrapped around him, he leans in and licks along my hollow of my neck. His dick is pressed flat on my stomach, the head getting slicker and sliding against my skin every time he moves into me. He grabs at my right breast and squeezes. I cry out, which he smothers with his mouth. It hurts, these frantic, wanton kisses, but Edward keeps me there with his hand on the back of my head. It gets rougher if I move, so I kiss him back—rougher and more wanton.

He pulls at my nipple with his thumb and index finger, a hardened peak now, and twists it.

_Fuck! That hurt!_

All right, two can play this game.

Reaching down between us, I grip him tight. He's not as big as Jasper and I'm able to get my hand wrapped around him. The pre-cum makes my fingers glide easily to jerk him off.

He moans, and bucks his hips up. Those sounds coming from him, all pleasure, gruff and deep from his throat—fucking drives me over the edge. I'm working faster and harder, grinding my pussy all over him, seeking some kind of friction. But I soon realize that having him deep inside me is the only way to relieve this throbbing ache…and he realizes this too.

Never soft or tender, Edward flings me off his lap and back on the bed. He pushes my legs apart and situates himself between my thighs. He leans back on his heels, licks his palm and then strokes his dick. My eyes bulge out of my fucking skull. I breathe a little faster and scoot my ass closer. He doesn't notice a damn thing. I'm begging him like a shameless hussy. My boy flicks his eyes to me and they darken.

I have no idea what he sees there in my face, but he smirks.

Resting his weight on his hand by my head, he hovers over me and rubs the head of his dick between my lips. It's hot, like temperature hot, even just the tip of it. Stroking and sliding, teasing me to no end, he never fully penetrates me. I don't want to plead with him, but my heart is already a hammering mess and really can't take much more. It feels like I'm going to die.

My body seeks his out; I raise my hips once more and push my ass towards him. "Just…" I say quietly.

Edward complies by pushing into me. It's slowed, and the most gentle he's been and probably the most gentle he'll ever be with me. My hands fly up to his shoulders as he goes deeper and deeper, all the way in. He hits resistance and doesn't move. All his muscles are tense, just like mine. I want to think he's relishing in how warm and soft it feels to be so deep inside his Bean, but I don't know. All I know is how my body conforms and encases around him.

We're perfect.

Then he eases out just as slow as he went in, but he doesn't care about being gentle anymore and rams back into me. Edward wants to fuck. That's all. Thrust after thrust, he's getting faster and harder. It's rough and forceful; every inch of me he reaches. I moan out a cry, mixed with pain and pleasure, digging my nails into his skin. Blood is drawn, but he doesn't flinch.

Edward pulls out and flips me over. I'm on my hands and knees. He grabs me by the back of the neck and pushes my head down into the mattress. I hear a smack and feel a sting on my ass cheek. He plunges back into me. I bite down on my lip, feeling that urge building again.

He's got a hold of my hips, a firm grip, thrusting my ass back as he shoves into me. It's a possessed pace. My tits hang in a cone shape and move back and forth with his brutal, furious momentum.

"Fuck," I whisper and bury my face into his comforter.

Edward doesn't say a word. I only hear his breathing and the smacking of our skins coming together. He reaches down and rubs my clit with his fingers. This isn't fair. It multiples what I'm already feeling and my moans become louder and more embarrassing (which are thankfully being muffled).

Then I'm being brought up by my arms and back into his Edward's chest. He's got a hand on my throat, still fucking me relentlessly from behind. My clit doesn't get any rest; he's still rubbing her into an epic frenzy.

Tilting his head down towards me with his hot breath on my ear, he says my name like a prayer, ever so quietly.

That's what does me in. I clench and spasm around him, every muscle of mine strains, and I come hard. It blindsides and stupefies me. I hold on to his thighs to ride it out by rolling my hips, but him and his dick aren't done with me...not yet.

Edward pushes me back down, face first into the bed, and pounds into me. The tingles of my orgasm are still lingering. I try to move myself away from the uncomfortable tickle, but he just grips me back by the hips and slams into me harder, faster—he's fucking ruthless.

"God, oh, god, Edward," I moan and cling to the comforter.

"Fuck," my boy grunts, and rams into me four to five more times. He places a hand on the center of my back and pulls out of me. Beautiful moans and endless curse words escape his mouth as he places the head of his dick on my ass and comes on my back.

I take deep breathes through my nose to slow my heart down to its resting beat. It's hurting my chest. My fragile ticker can't take all the strain. Then fury of what just happened is dawning on me. My boy…Edward, he finally gave into me and gave me exactly what I've been wanting for so long.

Now that it's over, I want to do it again…and again…and again.

"Don't move," Edward says.

The bed jostles under me. I think he's gone, but the bite to my ass reminds me he's still here. Then he smacks it for good measure.

"Jesus," he mutters to himself and gets off the bed.

I rest my weight on my elbows and turn my head to look at his room. It's not clean like Jasper's. There's a Seal uniform in the corner and a large rifle propped up against the wall. Turning my head the other way, I see his stash of bongs and pipes on the side table and a full baggy of weed. My bra's still hanging from the lamp shade.

_But that weed though._

Edward comes into the room and wipes my back off with a towel. I lie down on the bed and look up at him. He's wearing board shorts and rubbing his three-day scruff on his face. I want to say something, but don't know what. Telling him 'Thank you' seems weird. He's my boyfriend, sex is something that just is and not a gift…right?

Well, I think it's a little of both.

I eventually decide go to the one thing that's always on my mind other than my boys.

"Should we smoke some?"

He follows my eyes to the table and smiles. "Whatever you want, Bean."

***00***

After a bowl of weed, I pass out on Edward's bed. When I wake up, I find him beside me sleeping. The one thing I said I wanted and he refused to give me, I got. He looks peaceful there. No furrow brow or the strain in his face. All his pent up anger and hatred is gone.

My boy is just a boy.

I pull the blanket up and cover him. He mumbles something and rolls away from me. My fingers have a mind of their own and I trace the tattoo on his back. Filled with blue oceans and skulls, it represents everything my boy is. Serenity and war…kind of like what Jasper and Edward are to me. He doesn't wake up with my intrusive touches. I'm glad. He needs to rest.

From the floor in the corner of the room somewhere, I hear the buzzing of my phone. Getting up from the bed as quietly and gently as possible, I go to my shorts and dig it out of my back pocket.

The screen is lit up with the picture Jasper took of him and me all those months ago. I grin from ear to ear and answer with a whisper. "Hello?"

"_Hello? Bean?_" Jasper whispers back. "_Why are we whispering_?"

Putting on my shorts, I grab one of shirts left in a pile on the floor and slip it on. The smell's saturated in my addiction. It's intoxicating and heady thing, making me do that loving and infatuated sigh. I glance back over at my boy. He's still sound asleep and beautiful.

I tip toe out of the bedroom and go into the hallway. "I didn't want to wake Edward."

It slips out of my mouth and I regret saying it. Will Jasper get upset or jealous? I know we agreed to be together, all three of us as one, but will people's feelings still be hurt?

I didn't think so…

"_You're with him then_?" Jasper asks.

I grimace—_Fuck_! "Yeah." So stupid, Bean.

"_Good_," Jasper says, and he sounds relieved. "_And Charlie didn't give him any trouble?"_

"No." Blinking, like twenty times, I'm taken aback by what I'm hearing. "Did you guys plan this?"

"_Not planned…per se, __but we kind of expected something like this would happen, especially, when he started calling you. We knew getting involved with you that Charlie was going to be a complication. But giving you up was no longer an option…for either of us_."

The one person who wanted nothing to do with me is the one person who refuses to let me go. Maybe he's not tender or romantic like Jasper and he's fighting his own demons on a daily basis, but he has a soft spot for his Bean.

I'm their collective weakness and strength.

Collapsing into the futon, I stare up at the skylight. It's pitch black outside and the stars are out. A million and one of them twinkle and smile down at me. "So, what do we do now?"

"_Whatever you want, Bean."_


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: I promised a longer chapter, but it's a week late. I hope you like it and don't flame me too hard. Thanks to my girls, Dee, May, and Annie for constantly pimping this story. Their love for Chon and Jaspben make this story possible. **

**To my pre-reader, Brina…I love you. That's all.**

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Fifteen**

I've been on the phone with Jasper for over an hour and a half now. We've talked about everything and nothing was off limits. Sometimes, we wouldn't even say anything at all. He'd play me some of his music: reggae, jazz, and even eighties punk.

We'd just jam out.

But my favorite thing was when he would lose himself and get all philosophical. I loved to listen to him as he described his view on this world.

It wasn't bleak or a lost cause to him.

No matter what, Jasper saw something beautiful and positive in everyone and genuinely believed people could be influenced for a greater purpose. They just needed someone to guide them in the right direction.

"_I want to help people, feed them, give them an education, and a real chance at life, you know? But first, I need money to fund my philanthropist ambitions._" My boy yawns and signals the end. "_It's getting late_."

"Okay."

My frown he can't see, but he hears the sadness.

"_It's less than a week."_

Yes, he'll get off for Christmas break and stay until mid-January, and that's great, but it isn't right now. He keeps promising me that'll be here before I know it. He has no idea that a mere minute without him feels like years.

How the hell am I supposed to do six more days?

The only thing that comforts me is asleep in the next room.

Edward's the force that holds me in Laguna and keeps me from going AWOL.

"I know…" the three words that I long to say to him are at the tip of my tongue, but I'm such a chicken shit, "…anyway, I should try to get some sleep too."

The line goes silent and I think he's hung up on me.

"Hello? Jasper, are you still there?"

"_Can I ask you something_?"

I'm just so happy to hear him again, that I don't even think about saying anything other than, "Of course."

"_Have you_…" there's another long, agonizing pause, "…_have you and Edward slept together?_"

It stuns me at first, because I'm not sure if being honest would stir up hurt feelings and ruin things. But then again, it's not like I'm cheating or choosing one boy over the other.

I'm with them both.

I'm their girl.

And to me, they're one complete man.

The only way this relationship of ours will survive is if we're truthful and real with each other. No secrets and no lies, nothing but full disclosure.

"Yes," I say.

There's some unknown disturbance and shuffling on the other line. _"How?"_

I shake my head. "Jasper..."

"_This isn't a jealousy thing_," he rushes to assure me, and I can actually see his mind working, trying to come up with the right words. "_I just want to know how he..."_ he sighs, "_or how you..."_

"You want to know how we did it."

"_Yeah_," he says quietly. "_Is that okay_?"

Every inch of me is burning from the inside out and I can't really breathe right. It takes me a second to get my bearings, but I'm aroused—and oddly exhilarated by his curiosity. I envision him in his dorm, all alone, and waiting with nervous anticipation for details about two people he loves and wants equally.

I'll tell him everything.

"Yeah, it's okay."

But where do I begin?

My head's bombarded with memories of Edward and I just start…talking.

"First thing he did was throw me up against the wall. He held me there and kissed me. I couldn't move or think. He was rough, rougher than I'd thought he would be, but it was good."

"_How did he touch you_?"

"Um, well," I smile at how timid Jasper sounds, but also blush at how much he wants to know—and in detail, "he unbuttoned my jeans and..." I stare at the bedroom door, watching for Edward to materialize, but he never does. I still whisper though, "...fingered me."

"_Describe it," _he says, and before I can say no, he pulls out the big guns._"Please, Bean."_

I nod, closing my eyes and reliving it all again, embellishing for my boy's benefit. "He took his fingers and rubbed them up and down my pussy, very slowly. I begged him to fuck me with those fingers, needing to feel him inside me..." there's a muffled groan and a creaking of his chair in the background, "...are you touching yourself?"

Jasper breathes. "_Yes._"

My imagination runs wild with the thought of my boy holding his cock, stroking it, going up and down on his shaft, over and over again.

_"Keep going_," he says, urging me to continue—and I do, willing to do anything now just to hear my boy get off.

"Edward didn't want me to come around his fingers, so he took me to the room and threw me on his bed. That's where he undressed me and put his hot mouth on me, sucking and biting on my nipples. He spreads my legs, gets between them, and rubs his hard cock on my clit. I'm begging him to fuck me."

Jasper's breathing is jagged; he's panting and even moaning my name a little. Pressing my ear so tightly against the phone, to the point of it hurting, I finally hear that beautiful sound of skin slapping and beating against skin.

_Holy shit!_

My eyes fly open and I'm on my feet, internally screaming, and pacing the floor. I'm actually doing this. I'm having phone sex with my boyfriend, who's turned on by me having sex with another guy—his best friend!

I can't stop now.

Not when I have him this close.

"He flips me over, and I'm on my hands and knees," I say, my voice taking on a new deeper, sultry tone. "My ass right there for him to smack and mark with his teeth. He teases me, so much, stroking the tip of his dick along my lips. It's so slick. I'm so wet, baby."

Jasper's getting more and more out of breath. He's gasping and grunting and whimpering.

I'm horny just listening to him.

"Then out of nowhere," I pace the living room, needing something to distract myself, "Edward grabs my hips and slams into me. In and out, faster and faster his thick, hard cock goes deeper and deeper into my pussy, until I can't take it anymore and scream out his name."

"_Fuck!" _Jasper groans and drops the phone.

I can still hear him though; faint moans and breathing and fierce smacking of skin as he continues to jerk himself off—God, it's too much, and my pussy aches.

Why can't I be there to sit on his lap and fuck his dick until we both come?

Throwing myself on the stupid futon, I listen as he grunts out my name one last time and comes. It's the most beautiful sound—so unrestrained and animalistic. I need some relief of my own, and my hand ventures downwards to my swollen clit, but stops short when Jasper picks up the phone.

He's breathing heavily. "_Bean, are you there_?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I say.

"_I miss you_."

Hugging myself, a silly grin comes over my face. "I miss you."

"_Man, oh, man,"_ he says with a mixture of regret and want. "_I wish I'd been there_."

"And you will be."

"_Damn it," _he laughs with a frustrated groan._ "You're making it really hard for me to stay here_."

It's such a turnaround from a month ago, where school was his first and only priority, and I rarely heard from him. Now he's itching to come back. A large part of me wants to tell him to come home, but that's Bean being selfish.

I don't want him to ever resent me.

"Stay there and finish what you started. Edward and I aren't going anywhere."

"_Thank you_," he says. "_And I'm not just talking about tonight_."

I cross my legs tight to thwart off the insistent throbbing. "You owe me."

"_Yeah, I'm really looking forward to paying you back_." He yawns again, but this time I'm okay with it. "_Sorry_."

"No, it's okay. You should go to bed. I'll call you tomorrow."

"_All right, Bean, I lo…"_ he stops and doesn't finish it, but in a way, I don't need him to.

"Yeah, I know. Me too," I say. "Goodnight, Jasp."

"_Goodnight, baby_."

The phone goes black in my hand and he's not in my ear anymore. I sigh and roll over to my side. My eyes drift to a close, but burst back open less than a second later when I hear a loud thud coming from the bedroom.

A shirtless Edward emerges and comes storming out. There's a panic tenor in his expression and rushed movements. I've never seen him so scared. It's jarring and concerning, but it's the gun clenched in his hand that has my attention.

I sit up frantic, looking around me for any sign of danger. He's doing the same, except when his eyes find me, he relaxes—considerably.

"Jesus—fuck, Bean."

He sets the gun down on the kitchen counter and takes large strides across the room until he's right on top of me. Not one word is spoken; he just puts his hand on the side of my face and kisses my forehead. Soft, warm lips linger there as he takes in deep, steadied breaths.

The rapid pace of my startled heart is slowing down and I reach up to hold him, but he moves away before I can.

Edward sits down on the coffee table. "This is going take some getting used to."

I'm trying to understand what just happened here.

He was sleeping peacefully, but now he's drenched in sweat and tugging at my jeans.

Closeness seems like the only thing he wants from me. I concede without question and scoot to the edge of the futon. Our knees touch, but that's not enough, and so he moves his feet inward until our calves are pressed against each other.

It's another level intimacy with Edward that's unexpected.

I'm greedy though and push for more.

Resting my hands on his thighs, I pull myself closer into him. He doesn't look at me.

"Bad dream?" I ask.

He nods, and before I can press him, he tells me. "It's the same dream I've had for awhile now, but when I woke up and you were gone…" He scoffs at himself and stands. "Like I said, it's going to take some getting used to. It'll be fine."

I stare up at him, but he still refuses to look at me. Maybe he's ashamed for being vulnerable and confusing it for weakness. Whatever the case, I won't let him slip away that easily. He's my boy, whom I'm falling in love with. I need him to know I'm here and will never go away.

"Hey, look at me." I get up and put my arms around him. He's fire, scorching under my touch, but it's alluring and comforting. I want to be consumed by his flames. "Please."

"Bean, not having you there…" Edward hesitates to allow me in, but I'm persistent, wiggling my way through the walls he's built. He relents with defeated sigh, "…it scared me, all right?"

"I'm sorry." I put my head against his chest and listen to the powerful thump of his heart. "I just thought you needed space and—"

"You got nothing to be sorry about," he cuts me off and rubs his hands up my back. "I'm the fucked up one, remember?"

"You're not fucked up," I say. "You're just…" a part of me wants to ask about the gun and where that all fit in, but I'm starting to get an idea of how this solider operates. Defend now and ask questions later, "…Edward to me. Maybe you're a little rough around the edges, but you're all mine."

"Yeah," he laughs and pulls back from me. His eyes flash down at me phone on the futon and then back at me. Then he's all business again. "Jasper says that shit too."

***00***

It's late when we leave the house to get something to eat and only a few places are open after nine in Laguna. Edward tells me he's craving Mexican and decides to take me to Taco Loco. I've never actually been before, although Alice talked about it all the time.

Taco Loco is little shop and restaurant right off the Coast Highway. It's got that fast-food feel. You order at the counter from the overhead menu and take a seat.

The prices are damn cheap, it's almost like stealing.

Edward pulls me to the tables outside. There's a few scattered in the front. People walk by and say hello, but my favorite part about it is the ocean across the street. If you listen closely, and if there's no cars speeding by, you can actually hear the crashing waves.

God, I love everything about Laguna.

The way the cool breezes smell like salt or how everyone's laid-back and has a chronic surfer's attitude.

In Arizona, people are so miserable from the heat most of the time, or pissed off by the cold, and makes living there more of a solo activity. But in Laguna, even their winters only requires a light jacket or a hoodie.

I'm hooked.

The only thing I miss about Arizona is Rose, but she's been talking about moving out here for a few weeks now—and if she does, I can finally forget about my old life.

"You're quiet." Edward tips back his beer and eyes me with suspicion.

"Oh?" I shrug and give a half-hearted smile. "I didn't notice."

"Here," he holds out the bottle to me, "this should take the edge off."

"Offering alcohol to a minor, eh?"

"The least of my offenses with a minor today," he says, and his delivery is on point. There's no smirk or even a hint of him joking, he just stares at me with a cool, even expression.

It has the intended effect as heat creeps up and overwhelms my face and neck. I grab the beer and take a quick swig to distract myself.

It's thick, rich, and not bad. Pretty damn good, actually.

I pull it back to read the label. "Long Board Island Lager?"

"Yeah, one of the many things I missed while over in Afghanistan," he says, and waves me off when I try to give it back. "Keep it. You'll need it for the tacos."

Not even a second later, our food is being set down on the table. Six tacos wrapped in tinfoil and another round of chips and salsa. Edward orders another '_cerveza_' for us before the lady can walk away. She nods and goes back inside without even bothering to card me.

"People around here don't give a shit." Edward unfolds the tin foil and splays our tacos open, steam and a glorious scent of cilantro rolls off the chicken and carnitas. "Just don't rip them off."

I smile at him, because he's talking to the little thief in me. "You know, I haven't stolen anything, for like, a day now."

"Yeah, well," he divvies up our tacos, "coming from you, that _is_ quite the accomplishment."

"I thought so," I say, and pick up a chicken taco.

We eat and drink our beer in silence. I watch the cars go by on the highway. Study the faces of random people as they walk down the street. I listen to the faint Tejano music wafting out of the restaurant. The moon keeps playing hide and seek in the sky with the rolling clouds.

Nothing seems out of place.

Edward's eyes are on me and he has his gun on him.

I'm safe.

I'm happy.

I'm slightly drunk and very much full.

"Told you the beer goes great with the tacos," Edward says and finishes off his fifth.

He's not a light weight like me and holds his liquor well. The thing with him that makes me fall harder and more in love with him is, despite his troubled bad boy bravado, he's got morals. I'd thought we went here for convenience, since it's up the road from Edward's house, but it's because he knew he was going to drink and didn't want to drive.

"Precious cargo," he'd said.

I didn't get it then.

"You don't fool me." I hold my bottle up to my eye and look at him through the brown glass. "I see right through you."

He nods. "You're drunk."

"No…" I pause, and sway a little. The relaxed, liberated feel inside my head is a fairly good indication that maybe the last beer got to me, "…I'm buzzed."

"Yeah, well, you're cut off." He snags the bottle from my hand and drinks the rest.

I don't argue with him. He's too handsome to fight with. Sure, he looks scary with all those scars on his pissed-off face, but when he thinks no one's paying attention, that's when my boy's beauty comes out.

He tries to be tough and all, but he can't always hide it from me.

I know everything about him.

Like, I know how his fingers feel inside me, or how the ridges and rough callus of his hands feel on my breasts. I know how his tongue tastes. I know the heat of his skin on mine. I know he doesn't make a sound when he comes.

These details are etched in my brain.

After talking to Jasper and spilling our secrets, it's all I can think about.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Edward reaches across the table and brushes hair away from my eyes.

I grab his wrist to hold him there and speak before I lose the courage. "Do you and Jasper love me?"

He doesn't yank away from me or go running for the hills. No, he stays, but the silence that grows between us is much worse.

The immense regret I feel for pushing something that's a day old festers in my stomach and rises into my throat.

"Shit." Letting go of him, I stumble over my words in a clumsy effort to back track. "You're right; I'm cut off for the night."

Edward grabs the bottom of his chair and drags it over to my side of the table. Again, our knees and calves touch. The way he can unravel me with the simplest gestures isn't fair.

I keep my head forward and stare at the spot where he used to be.

"If I don't fool you and you see right through me, why would you even ask that question?"

"Maybe…" a wayward breeze blows on my face and sobers me up, "…I don't know you as well as I thought."

"Nah," Edward leans in really fucking close and whispers into my ear, "you know me, Bean."

I turn to face him to argue, but his lips are on mine and interrupt my every thought. He kisses me hard, deep, and recklessly—like we aren't in public or like he doesn't give a shit what people think. It's freeing to me. All my cares disappear with my short-lived sobriety and I let myself go. I quickly and inescapably get lost in this world with him.

But my happiness seems to have an expiration date.

A throat clears from my right. "Well, if it isn't Bella-fucking-Swan."

I freeze, recognizing the voice. She's the last person I want to see right now.

"Alice," I say regretfully, pulling away from Edward's mouth and turning my focus on her. "How are you?"

She's got a few friends with her, some I've met and some she's talked badly about, but they all have their nose upturned and wearing the same appalled expression.

"Not as good as you, I see." Flicking her gaze over at Edward, she smiles, but it's as fake as her new hair extensions. "I just thought you should know that the tribe is really disappointed with you and Whitlock."

My boy leans back in his chair, but maintains his hand on my thigh. "Since when did you become a member of the tribe? I distinctly remember throwing the Brandon family out years ago."

Alice folds her arms over her chest and juts out her chin. "What Eric did has nothing to do with me, okay? Besides, I've been loyal to this tribe. I've contributed to the fundraisers to support you over in Iran. Not to mention all the weed I've bought off Whitlock. The Brandon family has done nothing but uphold the tribe's integrity."

I'm listening to this whining and it just seems so trivial. It has nothing to do with territory or family but more to do with petty girl drama.

And maybe it's supposed to mean something to me at my age, but it doesn't.

I've got my boys.

That's all I care about.

"Get the fuck out of here, Brandon." Edward dismisses them and turns his attention back to me. "I'm busy."

I watch as one by one the girl's jaws drop to their knees and eyes bug out of their head in shock. They didn't expect him to swear and blow them off so nonchalantly.

In this town, the tribe was everything and Alice had appointed herself as the unofficial spokesperson.

"I'm only looking out for you and Whitlock."

Edward ignores her, and now I have both of his hands on my thighs. He says something about my skin being soft and how he likes touching it—and Alice just stands there, glaring, getting more and more fired up.

Someone in the crowd of girls utters the word '_slut'_.

That gets my boy's attention. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"They think I'm a slut," I tell him quietly.

His eyebrows lift with surprise. "You're kidding me?"

I shake my head.

Alice's smug, standing taller now, believing she's finally gotten to him. "Don't look so shock there, Cullen. Everyone knows what kind of girl Bella is. Maybe you and Whitlock should start thinking about your tribe more."

Staring at Edward, I just sit and listen to this callous girl demean me.

Why were we ever friends?

Maybe I overlooked her behavior, just needing someone to keep me occupied and my mind off Jasper.

But honestly, I don't remember her being this spiteful.

She wasn't a hater of girls, and didn't shame people for sleeping around—God knows Alice had her fair share of boys. Her main concerns in life were drugs, partying, and pissing her daddy off.

The tribe had always been an afterthought in her life.

"Fuck the tribe." Edward stands and drops a twenty on the table. "We don't give a shit about that."

Alice maintains her cool when my boy grabs my hand, but it's when he says, "Come on, Bean," and she hears my nickname roll off his tongue, showing her how intimate we really are, that's what makes her completely lose it.

"Yeah, well, what about Charlie, huh? He knows what was going on. I told him everything about you and her and Whitlock. You might not care about your tribe or what we think, but what about the law? The last time I checked, fucking an underage girl is illegal, Cullen."

"Oh, Alice," I groaned.

She just signed her own death certificate.

Edward loses all humanity in his face. There's coldness in his eyes. Everything he hates in this world is reflecting through Alice. She's a leech, a drain on us all, and must be dealt with accordingly.

But going to prison for murder isn't profitable or reasonable solution, Edward surprises me and goes Jasper's diplomatic route.

"You do what you have to do," he says, and walks up to her, getting real close and personal, "but from this point on, you're never getting weed from Jasper, or from me, or from Bean. You and all your fucking toker friends are blacklisted."

This causes an immediate panic, and suddenly, it's not about me anymore. All their anger is directed towards Alice. She's fucked them over. Future parties are ruined. And now they'll never taste the best ganja again. Having to settle for gutter weed is worse than having to deal with the town whore.

Who's smug now?

"Let's bail." Edward comes back to me and tugs on my hand, urging me towards the sidewalk. We don't get too far from where we stranded Alice with the pack of angry girls before he starts in on me. "Jesus Christ, baby, really?"

"I know, it looks bad."

"What the fuck were you doing hanging out with Brandon? She's a cokehead, Bean," Edward says.

"It's not like I did it with her." I shrug, unable to rationally defend my actions. "Besides, who was I suppose to talk to back then? Charlie? Yeah, right. I had no friends, okay? Jasper was gone. You didn't exist to me."

"That shit's done with."

I narrow my eyes at him confused. "What about the tribe and…?"

"Haven't you been paying attention?" He stops and stands in front of me. It's dark and I can barely see him by the light of the moon, but his eyes are blazing. "We're the tribe, Bean—you, me, and Jasper. We run Laguna. Got it?"

"Got it."

He throws an arm around my shoulders and laughs. "Alice Brandon, what a fucking statistic."

***00***

The first day or so takes getting used to. I've only lived with Mom and Charlie in my whole seventeen years of life, so this feels strange. Almost like living on my own, but with a boy, a surprisingly meticulous and clean boy. He does everything, not once letting me wash the dishes or pick up around the house—and I've offered many times.

He just waves me off and says, "It's been done."

I think he still sees me as a guest and not a housemate.

This puts me in limbo, where I can't settle in because it's something temporary, and unpacking my duffel bag is a wasted effort.

Also, Edward hasn't attempted to be with me since that first night. It's been a day and a half, not anything to be concerned about or think he's grown tired of me, but I'm kind of insatiable.

That phone call with Jasper has put me in a constant state of arousal.

And it doesn't matter what Edward does, it turns me on. Like when he washes our laundry, or cleans his gun, or packs the pipe—everything, he does heightens my need for him, but it's when he takes a shower that really pushes me over the edge.

I'm a bit of a creeper too, standing close by and wishing I could be under the hot spray with him.

It's getting ridiculous, and I'll hump just about anything at this point: a lamp, a barstool, Edward's surfboard.

Really doesn't matter.

"Here." Edward blows out the smoke and nudges me with his elbow.

He's holding out my pipe, the thing's brand new, and not stolen. My boy bought it for me today. The pipe is glass with a colorful, tie-dyed bowl, and black stem. It's played up with skulls, butterflies, and diamonds—like, real fucking diamonds.

He refuses to tell me how much he spent.

But I knew we had to christen it as soon as possible.

We're on our second bowl and getting fazed. The only bad part it doesn't hold much weed, so you're constantly packing it.

"Light me up?" I put it to my lips and watch him shake his Bic a couple times. The damn thing has been sputtering for awhile, but now there's no flame. It's done. I frown. "Boo."

"Hold that thought." Edward rises to his feet and goes into the kitchen.

Lying back on the futon, the classic buzz starts its humming in my head. I'm weightless as a warm wave of relaxation and serene peace comes over me. Time slows down. It's a wonderful feeling, to be so thoughtful and aware. But Jasper's weed has always had a strange influence over me. It heightens my feelings for love, sex, and food.

Love for the weed is first.

Food is always last.

Sex is what I want now.

I'm on my feet and taking off my shirt. I keep my bikini top on though. It's string, so it shouldn't be a problem to get rid of. One pull and it's gone and his mouth can be on my tits, sucking my nipples, biting and marking me...and hopefully more.

But yeah, I'm thinking too far ahead.

_Just put one foot in front of the other, Beanie Baby._

Edward's back is to me when I walk into the kitchen. He's still searching high and low for a damn lighter. The shuffling of random paper and pushing glass cups in the cabinets creates too much noise and he doesn't hear me.

I have no idea what I'm doing. It's scary and exciting. My heart's pounding so hard and so loud. Everything in my rational head is telling me to turn back around and run, but my body aches to be touched by him.

"Shit," he curses, slamming a drawer closed and putting his hands on the counter.

He's wearing basketball shorts and a grey hoodie sweater. There's nothing underneath either of those items of clothing. I know. I watched him get dressed this morning. He thought I was asleep in bed, but every day at five, he gets up and takes a shower. Not knowing I'm wide awake, listening to everything he does and fingering myself until I see stars.

My life's a loop, one I wouldn't mind repeating forever, but I want more.

Before I can change my mind or chicken out, I go up to him and put my arms around his waist. He smells good, like weed and Tide. A cleanliness, but still tainted with an illegal substance. Just like my boys.

"Hey," he puts his hands over mine and squeezes, "we're out of lighters. I'll go to the store."

"No." I bury my face into his back and slide my hands down his stomach.

"What are you doing?"

It sounds like he's about to protest, but doesn't stop me.

This gives me the courage to go under his shorts and take what I want. He's not hard, but there's plenty of room to grow. He rests his hands on the counter, steadying himself while I play with him. He's blossomed into his full potential now. I bite my lip, gliding my fingers over his dick and relishing how the blood pulsates and pumps through his veins.

My hand is greedy, wrapping around him and slowly moving up and down. It's dry. The pre-cum that dribbles out is not enough. It's difficult to gain momentum. But I just don't want to jerk him off. I need to taste him. I want to kiss and lick his dick.

What I really need to do is suck him off.

Removing my hand, I step back to give him room. He turns around and faces me, not questioning, but just waiting. It's up to me to make this happen. I don't speak or waste any more time and just yank down his shorts. He springs out, a fucking liberated cock, and it's glorious.

Licking my lips with anticipation and hunger, I drop to my knees and put my mouth on him. He takes two fistfuls of my hair, fighting against the urge to lead me. My hands lay flat on his thighs, and slowly I take him all the way in, until the tip of his dick hits the back of my throat. He widens his stance, but still, doesn't push or rush me, allowing me to suck him off at my own pace.

I graze my teeth over his shaft and he jerks away. I grasp him at the base of his cock and hold him there. He doesn't fight me. My eyes travel up and find him staring down. The intensity of his gaze is intimating, but I don't look away.

I'm in control, not him.

Leaning forward, and with just a flick of my tongue, I lick off the clear droplet that leaks out of the head.

It's salty, but like the taste of the Laguna breeze, I'm in love and want more.

Shoving him into my mouth, I suck him hard now. Working my wrist in circle motions on his shaft and caressing his balls with my other hand. He breaks eye contact and his head lolls back. Staying mute and never allowing one moan to escape his lips, he uses his anchor on my hair as reins and pushes his hips into me, picking up the pace.

It's a frantic speed, and I'm taking him faster and deeper into my mouth. Getting sloppy and reckless in the process, but this need for him and his orgasm is so severe; the mere thought of swallowing doesn't gross me out. I want it—like really fucking want it. I'll do my best to get it, even if my jaw cramps up or face goes numb.

But just as Edward's dick twitches and signals to me he's about to come, he yanks himself out of my mouth without warning. He lifts me off the floor and sets me down on the counter. He takes off my flimsy boxer shorts and pulls on the strings. My bikini top and bottoms are gone. He grunts with approval. I'm blushing from head to toe, feeling beautiful and wanted by him.

Shoving my knees apart and puts himself between my thighs, the tip of his dick is barely resting against my throbbing, aching pussy. He doesn't advance or push all the way in, only further prolonging my agony.

I open my mouth to beg him, but he silences me by attacking me with a kiss. My boy is so powerful and unrestrained. His firm, hasty tongue forcefully mingles with mine—no doubt tasting himself on me.

How I want to taste myself on his dick.

Putting both of his hands on my tits, he's kneading and squeezing them. I arch my back, pushing further into the painful and perfectness of his rough touch. Bucking his hips into me, his dick glides up and taps my clit.

I'm hyperventilating. My heart is racing so fucking fast with need. I'll die if he doesn't fuck me.

Edward stops kissing my lips and puts a hand on my throat. He pushes me backwards against the cabinets, keeping me still and compliant. Reaching down between us, he grabs his dick and slides it up and down my pussy. It's glistening and slick, wet from my need. I try sit up enough to watch him, wanting to see the moment he enters me, but he has me pinned back and blind.

I can only feel him, but even still, it's an experience.

Easing into me with a slow, deliberate push, he settles in all the way and still pulls me closer into him—as if, going as deep as he can wasn't enough. But then his head snaps up and those green eyes goes dark, all of the tenderness gone and replaced by aggression.

Pulling out, Edward slams back into me. I scream out. He doesn't say a word. Over and over, again and again, each thrust of his hips plunges his dick into me harder and crueler than the last. My moans are loud, echoing throughout the house, and probably disturbing the neighbors. I brace my hands behind me and draw my legs up, resting my heels on the edge of the counter. The change in position gives Edward a better angle and he's deeper inside of me.

"Oh, fuck," I whimper and bite my lip.

"Bean," he warns with a gasp and releases his hold on my neck.

He places a hand over my heart and stares into my eyes. I don't look away. He never says a word, only fucking me faster, harder, deeper, and insistently. My pussy clenches and contracts around him. He feels this too. It makes him even crazier, knowing that I'm going to come all over him. He grabs my hips, giving him more leverage, to deepen our connection and to fuck me into oblivion.

I need him close, to feel his heart on mine, the moment we both come. Sitting up, I drape my arms around him and cozy my face into his neck. Moaning and crying, I tense as the knots in my stomach constrict, pushing me closer. He twitches, pumping his dick into me faster and digging his nails into my skin.

_He's close_…

"I want to see it," I whisper, and lift my head up to look at him, but something else catches my attention.

There by the door, frozen and carrying two duffel bags, a pair of blue eyes connects with my wide, shocked ones.

My heart stops as realization takes over.

Jasper's here.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Annnd here we are. Thanks for reading. Please review. **

**Thanks to my pre-reader who's a champ, migraine from Hell, and still manages to do me a solid. Love you, girl.**

***All the mistakes are mine**

**Chapter Sixteen**

_How long has he been here?_

I don't know, but Jasper's stands by the door while Edward fucks their girl. Not moving or saying a word, those eyes of Laguna waves never look away from me, and I stare back, not scrambling to cover myself up or flushing with embarrassment (quite the opposite, actually). There's something arousing about him being here and seeing this—almost like being exposed so intimately to a boy for the first time or being caught screwing in public.

But having him watch isn't enough for me. He needs to participate. I want to touch him, kiss him, and feel him.

Feel them both, at once.

Maybe I say this out loud, or maybe they're finally making me a part of their conversation, but my thoughts are heard. Jasper drops the bags he'd been clutching onto so tightly, pulls off his shirt by the collar, and walks into the kitchen with purpose. Edward stiffens, catching him out of the corner of his eye, and slows down, stalling his own release.

He grabs my throat and squeezes gently, pushing me back into the cabinets and giving me a look that says it all, _'Am I ready for this?'_

I nod.

Edward nods back with affirmation and shoves into me. I whimper as he hits me deep. Pulling me forward with a swift jerk, our chests are pressed together, and my heart frantically pounds, eager to match his rapid beat. He lifts me off the counter and cradles my ass with his hands. My legs wrap around him and he shuffles us over to the breakfast table.

Not once does he break our connection, still hard and vibrating inside me.

Jasper's already there and giving me a bashful smile as he fumbles with the button on his jeans.

I want to kiss that smile.

Edward sets me down, but doesn't move an inch in or out. He glances over at his best friend, his lover, and fucking soul mate.

There's a shit ton of questions between them that hangs in the air unanswered. They want this as much as I do, but are unsure about me.

_Is it too soon? _

_Maybe they're asking me to do too much. _

_I agreed to be with them, but did I know what that fully entailed? _

_Did they not take the time to explain things to me?_

I'm more than just a fuck to them.

And maybe this is more than what I've bargained for, and God knows I've never been in this sort of situation and don't know exactly how this should go, but I'm willing to give it everything I have.

It's a dangerous flame I'm toying with, but the need to have my boys simultaneously outweighs the risk of being burned.

"Hey," I say, and quickly suck in a breath when they turn their eyes on me. It's overwhelming to be the center of their universe, but also so powerful, and I use it to my benefit. "I want this," rubbing my palm against Jasper's bulge and moving my hips, forcing Edward to slide in and out of me, just barely, "please."

They groan—fuck, that's sexy, and does things to me, makes me crave them even more. They respond to my insistent craving, and there's no longer a question looming over us.

Jasper's jeans disappear and fall to the floor. Edward's grabs my waist and jerks me forward, steadying me as he slides out, slow and tortuously, before slamming back in with a brute force.

I fall back and grip the edge of the table for leverage as my body rocks and bangs it into the wall. My legs are hitched and pushed up to my chest, pushing my ass downward, and giving Edward the angle he likes to go as deep as he likes.

My heart's racing and my lungs are struggling. Pain sears through me as my guy digs his fingers into my skin, and every rough, insatiable thrust of his pelvis shoves me harder into the unforgiving surface.

I cry out, "Oh, God…" but silenced by Jasper as comes out of nowhere and kisses me.

The mouth on this boy is as violent as my soldier's fucking. He's not as gentle as before, but needier and more impatient. His full, soft, and perfect lips are like a sweet chronic to my blood. They're just as addicting, gets my head spinning and thoughts foggy.

I can't contain this need anymore.

My hands fly up and my fingers find their way past his dreads and into the wispy hairs on the back of his neck. He grunts with surprise, not expecting me to pull him down so deep, but falls into me all the same. I try to focus on his tongue, and how good he tastes, but Edward demands my attention.

He drags me across the table away from Jasper's mouth. My thighs slam into his, and once more he pushes my knees higher into my chest, giving him better access to see me and play with me. I'm helpless with these boys. Jasper's fondling my tits, occasionally putting a nipple into his mouth. He's sweet, licking and caressing, but no biting. Edward's ruthless, and shows me no mercy, pulling out his dick and slapping me with it. He slides his hardness up and down and between my lips, giving my clit a few tingling hits.

I plea their name.

Edward grants me clemency and lets my legs fall. They ache, quivering with pain and need. He puts his hand on my stomach, holding me there as he pushes all the way back in until our skins are flush. We're closer than ever now, so deeply involved. He moves in and out with ease, eventually increasing in tempo with every stride and thrust. He's being gentle, which isn't his game. I know he hears me, because there's a knowing smirk twisting on his lips, and with a breath, he's fucking me again the only way he knows how: relentlessly.

"Jesus," Jasper whispers against my breasts, but stumbles back.

I look over at him and my heart stops.

Oh, fuck! He's touching himself; those long, lithe fingers caress and stoke his length, moving up and down, tenderly and languidly, and he's wide-eyed and watching. The voyeur in him enjoys observing Edward as he buries himself deep inside their girl's pussy like a madman.

It turns him on.

This is exactly what he wanted. Since the first time he made love to me, I teased him, coaxed him. Because I knew he wanted Edward to fuck me, to be there and to witness when his best friend's dick goes inside their Bean, listening to the noises of my wet pussy being smacked, and our collective grunts and moans.

I can't take my eyes off him.

He glides his fingers over the head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum, twisting his wrist with every stroke. Little puffs of air coming out from between his pursed lips is his way of maintaining composure, but he has no idea how close he's pushing me over the edge. I'm wet and clenching for him.

Edward feels it, and he rubs my clit with his thumb in circular motions. He pinches and pulls on it, eliciting a loud, feral cry from me.

"Shit, Bean…" It's too much for Jasper and his strokes are jerky and sluggish now. He's fighting off the urge to come, because he doesn't want to go.

Neither one of us do.

Not yet.

But then he leans up against the wall and stops altogether, his hands dropping limply to his sides in defeat. He's hard; dick's twitching and seeking an end to what we've all started.

"Jack him off." Edward never looks at me as he bends over and bites my nipple, taking it in between his teeth. It's peeked and aching. He blows on it. "Do it."

"Come here, baby." I reach out for him.

Jasper takes a step forward and slips his cock into my awaiting hand. I wrap my fingers around him and squeeze. He's soft and warm, a little slick from his pre-cum and spit, giving me ease to slide along his shaft. My strokes are slow at first, but the pace picks up and I'm pumping his cock with all I have.

It's a beautiful thing to witness, his face contorts with pleasure, and he's letting go, putting his hands in my hair and he tugs me closer, wanting more.

I'm needy now.

Sitting up, I twist my body as much as Edward's dick will allow and lick my lips to go in for a little taste. As my tongue peeks out and traces the slit on Jasper's head, it pulses and jerks. My mouth is a hungry bitch and takes him—God, I love the way the heat emanates from him, so sweet and delicious. But the angle's awkward, I can only get the tip in, but it's enough to lick and love, taste and enjoy.

The groan that comes out of him is from his throat—so deep and wanton.

Edward curses, and a flash of him above me grabbing Jasper by the neck and pulling him into a kiss takes all my focus.

_Fuck!_

My high from the weed is waning, but I'm still stoned out of my damn mind with these boys. The sensory overload is surreal and breathtaking. I'm not sure what to devote all my attention on: The dick in my hand waiting to be sucked, the cock in my pussy fucking me raw, or these guys, so beautiful and mine, making out.

I decide to relish in everything.

Rolling my hips to keep Edward moving inside me, I lie back, still jerking Jasper off, and watch my boys go at it—like, ridiculously mouth fucking each other.

Those timid kisses they displayed on Thanksgiving night is nothing like what they're showing me now. The passion is real, their lips firm, tongues intermingle, and I can see how much they can't get enough of each other.

That crazy attraction ignites something in me, my arousal throbbing and seeking some attention. I rub my clit just to ease the painful ache. My body betrays me as my release builds. I'm whimpering, shivering, and holding my breath.

Either Edward hears me or feels my fingers slide along his cock, but he snaps his eyes open and finds me so close and withering beneath him.

"Fuck!" He breaks away from Jasper and pulls out of me. Everything stops. My breathing's labored. I'm disoriented. The only thing I see is green eyes narrowed in contempt. "Nice try."

Dominance is Edward's endgame. He's the one who says who goes.

"Put your arms around me," he orders.

Doing as I'm told, I hold on tight as my guy lifts me off the table. He walks me over to the living room with Jasper following close behind. He's barely stroking his cock, just enough to keep himself up, but not enough pressure to come to. Damn, he's so sexy, my thighs squeeze around Edward, and I'm sure he feels me get wetter.

"Bean…" He groans and bites my shoulder.

It hurts, but I make no apologies about wanting them both.

Laying me back on the futon, he snaps his fingers and instructs me to get into the doggy-style position. I'm on my hands and knees with my ass facing Edward. Jasper comes around to the front of me and kneels on the soft cushions. He holds his shaft, directing his cock, and taps my bottom lip with the tip. I open my mouth and he taps my tongue. He's being playful, teasing me now, and wanting me to suck him off.

There's a reason they didn't switch places. I saw it in his eyes when Edward offered him his spot in the kitchen. It was brief interaction, but I'm attuned to their wavelength, dialed in and their thoughts are clear. We all wanted him to make love to me, but Jasper couldn't do it.

My boy wouldn't last a second inside me.

Not while I'm so warm and wet.

Grabbing his thick cock by the base, I hold him firmly and fit as much of him as I can into my mouth. He shoves his hands into my hair and leads me gently. Back and forth, up and down, all the way. My tongue rolls, licking every bit of him. Then I hum, causing a vibration that drives him crazy. He thrusts his dick into my mouth, fucking it, but trying so hard not to hurt me.

But I encourage it, the rougher the better, putting my hand on his balls and massaging them.

Edward's touch comes back to me. He's tracing my plump lips with his fingers. It's surprisingly tender. I close my eyes and try to focus on sucking my boy off good, but everything's goes haywire when a wet, hot tongue licks me from ass crack to clit.

My eyes go wide as the pace slows down.

Edward's tenderness is short-lived and he attacks my pussy with a craze. Squeezing my ass cheeks, he splays them apart and eats me out. Licking and sucking, and biting and fingering me. He ravenous and doesn't stop. Never gentle. Everything about this man is fucking mind blowing.

"Oh, fuck!" I pull away from Jasper's cock.

I'm just stroking him now, unable to do much else now but just feel—Jesus, two fingers now? They curl and pump into me, hitting that spot—the one he knows will make me come.

"Baby…" I warn, but Edward doesn't say a damn word to me. He just takes my clit into his mouth, grazing his teeth across it and sucking on it.

Jasper's moaning my name and his cock twitches in my grasp. My eyes lose focus for a brief second, but I'm brought back to the task at hand. Shoving him into my mouth, sucking and licking, tasting the salt on my tongue, knowing he's wetter for me.

Pulling his fingers out of me, Edward grabs my ass and squeezes. He bites, hard, and sucks on it until he feels blood rising to the surface. My minds racing with the mark he's leaving on me. I'm his girl. That's it. He smacks it, but that's because he likes how the skin turns a cherry red. I know this because I know him.

Jasper knows this too, and thrusts roughly into my mouth, aching as much as me.

Rising up from knees, Edward lines himself up to me. I feel the head of his dick, wet and ready, caressing and preparing my pussy for the pounding he's about to give it.

But I'm not prepared for the force he puts behind it. One, sure stroke and he's in my pussy. Every thrusts and every slam he gives me, I'm thrown forward and take Jasper deeper into my throat.

Both of my boys whimper and groan.

I'm in love.

Their pleasure fuels me. I want to make them both come so badly. My hips rock and grind, banging harder into Edward and fucks me hard back. My lips are around Jasper, matching the pace of Edward's thrusts, my hand twists, sliding up and down his cock. He has my hair in a grip so tight, but he uses it to pull me deeper. It's painful to have him pound into my mouth, but I know he's close.

Both of them are.

They're feeding off each other now. I can't see their eyes, but I can feel them. The distinctive twitches and the pulsations of their dicks tell me everything I need to know. I'm making them feel so good. They're going to come so good because of me.

This sets off a chain of reactions.

First me, I feel it, that tension in the clit, the throbbing that goes deep, and I hold my breath. Maybe my heart stops beating. But it comes in real slow, a warm sensation, and a familiar tingle. Closing my eyes tight, I clench and come all over Edward.

No word from me, I shudder as Edward continues to fuck me. He knows too. The slickness, the spasms of my inner muscles, and he can't hold off any longer.

Grunting and moaning, he pulls out of me, and just like the night before, he jerks out his orgasm and trails my back with hot, spurts of his come. He's rubbing himself, squeezing every last drop out. This visual sets Jasper off, and he rushes to take his dick out, but I won't let him. Gripping him tight, I keep my mouth on him and my eyes find him. He's asking, warning me, but I plead with him.

_Come on, baby, just let go_.

Jasper listens like a good little boy, and every bit of him comes into my mouth. I swallow it down without hesitation. Staring down at me in awe, he thrusts his hips forward. I'm gripping him and slowly suck and linger on his dick, until he's fully clean out of my mouth. He releases my hair and falls back on the futon, panting and sweating, completely spent.

Edward's bent over me and rubbing his hands up and down my arms. He's got his face buried in my neck, and he's me breathing in so deep, almost like he needs to survive.

My heart's slowing and everything's still, almost quiet even. I brush the hair from my face and take a peek up at Jasper.

He's got his eyes closed and lying peacefully. The sight of him holding and stroking himself is absolutely beautiful.

God, does he know?

Does either of them know?

There's this emotion wanting to burst out of me. Maybe it's love, or the effects of being loved and fucked by two men at once, or even the later effects of the high from Jasper's amazing weed, but it's clear: they've changed me. I've never been this happy in my life. I've never felt something this profound before. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much.

Edward and Jasper are my everything.

It's only matter of time now before I say the actual words to them.

But for now, I just shake my head and laugh. "Yeah, you boys have _definitely_ been holding out on me."

** *()()***

The boys are not only my everything but my first with everything. It's silly to think I've never had sushi before coming to Laguna, but it's one of those things in life that never came up. Mom likes the rich, uppity French cuisine and Rose won't put anything in her mouth unless it's Mexican food. Every day and all the time with her, she's got to have her Green Chile Chimichanga. That's why when Jasper suggested that we go to _Okura Sushi Bar_; I'd given him a disgusted face. People tell you all the time that sushi equals raw fish. I'm not a huge fish fan as it is, unless it's battered and fried, but Jasper assured me that the restaurant had other varieties, like chicken and beef.

Even Edward backed him up.

I agreed to go with some optimism and excitement for trying new things.

It's towards the later evening and the sun has gone down, but there's still a deep purple hue to the sky. My heart can't get over her love for this place. How long have I lived here? Four months, maybe five? I guess after years and years of seeing this view day in and day out, I'll be immune to its charms. Become just like everyone else, yawning at the sky instead of staring at it like it's the Eighth Wonder.

Only Jasper looks to the sky like I do.

Okura is a nice restaurant, not overly fancy, but it has red Japanese fans hanging on the warm bamboo walls, and the tables are a shiny black. It's right off the Coast Highway, like most places to eat here, but it's further from our house and we drive there. Edward insists on keeping me in the front seat with him. I'd wanted to sit in the back and give the boys time to talk and catch up on their business, but the Seal wouldn't hear of it.

One stare from him gives me shivers. I have no problem with complying with anything and everything he says.

But Jasper's no slouch either, and always makes his presence known. During the drive, he slipped a hand through the crack between the seat and the door on my side and touched me the entire ride there. Chaste touches, never anything too obscene, but it still manages to ruin me—which, I'm pretty sure my boys are determined to do.

At the restaurant, they make it a point to put me in the middle of them, as we walk in and when we sit down in the piano lounge.

I'm the common denominator.

Edward's cool, impassive and indifferent about public display of affection, only keeping a hold on my knee and never pushing it. Jasper's the opposite, he always has been, and he leans into me as he talks, sweeping the hair away from my neck and caresses the skin with the back of his knuckles.

From a distance, you'd assume that I was only with one of them, and you'd feel at ease, but if you looked closer, you'd see the truth.

Maybe it's the high of being around them or the weed or being fucked out of my skull, but I want people to know, to be appalled and uncomfortable, and think and say the worst about me and about us—because if they do, and we survive it, I know nothing can touch this tribe.

"The trick is to rest them on your fingers like this." Jasper's teaching me how to eat with chopsticks, and he's the type of teacher who's extremely hands on with their students. He's practically on top of me, and maybe I exploit this by messing up on purpose. He smiles with me as I hold up the sticks and click them together. "You're getting it."

Edward sees right through me and snorts. "Bean's a quick study."

"It's not as hard as it looks, but I've yet to actually eat with these things." I click them together to drive my point home. "We'll see."

"Nah, he's right." Jasper leans away from me and back in his chair, but scoots his leg forward to touch mine. "You took to surfing within a week. You pick up quicker than anyone I know."

My face heats up, because the way he's staring at me and my chest, it's clear that surfing isn't what he's talking about.

"You blush quicker than anyone I know, too," he says, and he can't help himself from reaching out and touching the redden patch of skin, trailing it up from the curves of my breasts to the hollow part of my neck. He smiles when my breathing increases. "I need to stop."

"No," I say. "It's okay."

"No, Bean, he really does." Edward chimes in and directs our attention to the restaurant manager. He's watching us closely with suspicion. "You need to fucking cool it, bro. She's still…" he clears his throat, trying not to spell out the obvious.

"Underage," I finish.

The judgments won't mean much after I'm eighteen, but right now, it means everything and carries a heavy punishment.

"Right." Jasper backs away and puts his hands flat on the table. "Jesus, I should know better."

The easygoing atmosphere got serious and uncomfortable. This isn't how I want to celebrate his homecoming.

"Let's talk about something else, yeah?" I put on my best smile and glance back and forth between my boys.

Edward nods. "Maybe we should order some Sake first."

"Sake?" I ask.

Jasper smirks. "That shit's strong here, man."

"I know." Edward waves our waiter down. "We need to relax."

There's been a tension surrounding us since we all collapsed on the futon, but I'd assumed it was to be expected after incredible sex. It was our first time with each other. We all crossed a line, and for me, it's an obvious life changer. Even if we wanted to, none of us could go back to the way we were before. The friendship we all started had escalated into an intimate relationship. Nothing could take away that need we all share.

"What about Bean?" Jasper asks.

"What about her?"

"She's underage…" Jasper lets it hang there.

"Yeah, and so what?" Edward orders a couple of Sake Bombers from the waiter. When they walk away and clearly out of earshot, he gives me a pointed look. "You can handle it."

I shrug, biting back a smile. "Maybe."

Edward has a tendency to sneak forbidden things to me. He enjoys being a bad influence. I'm his little bird, a tiny doe-eyed deer, but I've been career thief since the age of fifteen. There's nothing innocent about me.

"Okay, correct me if I'm wrong," Jasper pulls his chair closer to me and leans towards Edward, "but I can't touch our girl in public, because she's underage and it's against the law, right?"

"I already know where you're fucking going with this," Edward says.

"Yeah, still let me make my point, okay?"

"You got a point?"

Jasper thinks about it. "Yes."

"Well, make it then." Edward waves him on.

"Is me touching her in public," Jasper says, but doesn't actually do it, "worse than getting her drunk in public?"

"Um, I vote for no," I say, but my boys don't hear me and are too busy battling over...only God knows what.

"Depends on which one gets you the most jail time," Edward says.

They stare each other down, faces stern, intense, and neither one faltering. It's the hottest thing I've seen since…well, like, since like an hour ago.

"We're drug dealers, man," Jasper breaks the silence, "are we really that concerned with the law?"

Edward laughs. "Not if you're gonna fuck around with the daughter of a DEA agent."

"Some things are worth the risk." Jasper then he decides to say fuck it.

He puts a hand behind my neck and draws me into a kiss. He lingers there on my lips, making sure if people weren't looking before, they're most certainly looking now. It's soft, tender, and puts me under quicker than weed or alcohol or food—let alone anything else in this world.

When he lets me go, I don't have time to catch a breath before Edward turns my face towards him and lays down his own brand of driving me crazy. He's chaotic with his mouth, no direction or reason, just powerful and explosive. He doesn't give a shit about my hair, fingers in it and pulling it, fucking it all up. My whimpers get my lips bitten and tugged on. The only thing that stops him from slipping his hand underneath my shirt is the nudging from Jasper.

"What?" Edward kisses me chastely one last time and glances up. "Good. I'm starving."

I'm dazed, and it takes a second for my eyes to focus on the five rectangle plates filled with a various array of sushi rolls being set down on the table. Everything before now, the kisses and touches, has been forgotten and my stomach responds with a wanting gurgle.

My boys laugh at me, but agree.

We're all so hungry.

Luckily, Edward and Jasper decided to take mercy on me (for once) and stayed away from the most exotic foods and wanted to gently ease my palate into sushi. They'd mention a spicy tuna roll and Philly roll, which sounded okay, but one of these bad boys were battered and fried.

It's definitely my kind of sushi.

After some prepping with soy sauce and wasabi, (which you use sparingly, I've learned and had to down water to distinguish the fire) we got to eating. It's good, even better with Sake Bombers. It burns the throat and jumbles the head, but Edward cut me off after the first shot.

A little touching and a little alcohol, but keep it within limits.

"What brought you back to Laguna, man?" Edward expertly picks up a roll with the chopsticks and dunks it into tiny ceramic bowl of soy and wasabi. "Aren't your tests next week?"

Jasper and I glance at each other and share a knowing smile. There's only one reason why he came home early.

"I pulled some strings and took my finals early." He shrugs as if that shit wasn't a big deal. "Besides, Emmett has found a place for us."

Edward's ears perk up, but his mouth is full. "No shit?"

"Yeah, apparently this place is pretty cherry. It's an actual greenhouse—at least twenty-five-hundred-square-feet. It's right on the beach, but secluded."

"That's great, baby." I throw my arms around Jasper and hug him.

He rubs his hand up and down my back with no intentions of letting go. "Thanks."

"What's the catch?"

"Forever the pessimist," Jasper says to me in a half-whisper and groan. He pulls away from our embrace and sets his eyes on Edward. "There's no catch."

"There's always a catch," Edward puts his arm on the back of my chair and leans forward. Jasper follows his lead. They've created this bubble with me at the center of it. I'm part of their tight bond and friendship. "How much does he want for it?"

"A few grand for rent," Jasper says. "If we deal daily, that's nothing but pocket change."

My heart swells with love for this boy. He's so trusting and believes the best in people. Maybe that's why he overlooked my sticky fingers and saw his Bean.

Edward on the other hand, sees people for what they really are: liars and cheaters.

"And he doesn't want any part of our business?"

"Emmett's not greedy," Jasper says, but his confidence is waning, and the possibility of this guy double-dipping isn't that far off the mark.

"Everyone's greedy, but to what degree?"

"If you treat a person like they're going to screw you over, that's exactly what they're going to do, but if you come at them with understanding and respect."

"You think you know people better than me? I've seen the ugly truth in this world. That shit you're saying, love and respect, that's naïve, man—that hippie bullshit has made you weak, and you have no idea what the real world's about!" Edward stops mid-rant and says calmly. "I don't like it."

Jasper sighs and rests his head on my shoulder. "You need to trust me."

It's no longer about believing in some guy, but believing in Jasper.

That changes everything.

"Okay." Edward leans away and downs a shot of Saki. "We'll go look at it."

The second he removed himself from our bubble there's a coldness. My hand reaches to touch his and reaffirm that he's still here with me. He intertwines his fingers with mine and squeezes. That's enough for me to take a peaceful breath. I'm not as whole as before, but pretty damn close to it.

"Thanks, man," Jasper says.

It's quiet for a beat. People pass by our table and stare. I'm not sure what they see or where I need to go from here. Did my boys fight? Should I say something? I'm frozen in my seat, hesitant to move.

Thankfully, Edward frees me from uncertainty.

"Speaking of dealing," he says, "I got a few people lined up on Thursday."

"You got enough supply?" Jasper's snuggling into my neck and places a few kisses to the skin.

Once he got the green light from Edward, my boy's been nothing short of a glutton.

I do love it.

"Yeah, but I was thinking, since you're home, we could throw a party."

Jasper told me once parties were a drug dealer's day at the office. It's where they sell the most and meet potential customers. It's why he threw his Thanksgiving bash and why he throws one every year. But that well was running dry because Jasper's parents were planning on spending the holidays with their son more. It was a drag, and they needed a new venue.

Edward's beach house was small, but could definitely get the job done.

"Cool, let's do it," Jasper says, and takes a breather by extracting himself from me. He grabs the water on the table and downs it. He raises a brow in question. "You're being quiet."

"I'm just listening," I say, but sleep's calling to me. The weed, sex, food, and alcohol have taken its toll. "I've really missed you."

"I've missed you too." Jasper sees something else though. Guilt manifests behind his soulful eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, Bean, I'm such an asshole. I haven't asked what's been going on with you. How's your dad? Did you patch things up him?"

"I'm okay, really. And no, I haven't talked to Charlie since the night I left," I chuckle to myself, but there's a touch of sadness to it. "I haven't even been back to get the rest of my stuff."

Edward takes out his wallet to pay the check. "We can go over there for you."

"It's fine, really, I just…" My eyes close, because there's only thing that I'd left behind that I miss every second of the day, "…my surf board is still there."

"The one I gave you?" Jasper asks.

I look down at my fidgeting fingers. "Yeah, and I'm worried that he'll do something to it. Especially, if he knows it's a gift from you."

"What time is it?" Jasper glances at his cell phone. "Let's go over there right now and get it."

My head snaps up. "Are you serious?"

"You need a board," Jasper says.

"And you can't borrow mine," Edward adds.

I grin when he winks at me, but try to cover it up my hand. "You want us to all go over there? Together?"

Edward and Jasper are standing now and looking down at me like that point is obvious. How did a girl like me manage to get two beautiful, charming boys to do whatever she needed to keep her happy and safe?

How the Hell is this my life?

"You're our girl, Bean," Edward says.

Jasper holds out his hand to me. "You're apart of everything we do now."


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Short chapter, but I'll be working on the rest this week. Thanks for reading. Love you all. ALSO-this is Bean's POV, how she perceives things are biased. That's why I love 1st POV's. They give you a one-sided conversation. But still keep that in mind, because she'll show you what she believes to be true.**

**Thank you, Brina. You're honest with me. I really need that in a friend. And you're a true one.**

***All the mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

The clock on the car's dash reads nine in the evening when we arrive at Dad's. Edward parks a block away and turns off the ignition. We all sit there in silence. There's no plan and none of us really thought this through. I blame weed, great sex, decent food, and lots of Sake. It rules behavior, especially the silly kind. But our main goal in all of this is to get my stuff back.

How we're going to accomplish that, everyone has their own ideas.

Edward wants to pound on Charlie's door and storm in like SWAT, without so much of a hello, and take my things. I didn't know if Dad still had his work pistol on him, but it seemed too aggressive and intrusive to me. What if there's a shootout and people get hurt, or die, or God, I don't know? I'm just not high even to deal with that sort of outcome.

I want to do it covertly by going around the back and sneaking through my bedroom window. It's so easy and almost not even fair. The lock doesn't latch and if you wiggle it a little it'll come off the hook, and bingo, you're in. Charlie will never have to know we were even there. It's the perfect solution for a girl who has no interest in seeing her father.

But my boys scoffed at me and ruled my idea as more dangerous than Edward's and too riddled with obstacles.

Not to mention, against the law.

They're already drug dealers and dating a minor, breaking and entering is the last thing they need to add to their growing charges.

In the end, Jasper had the best plan. He decided we should go there calmly and show respect to Dad. No one had to fight or get emotional. It's a simple request. One Charlie would understand. But if he did put up any resistance, Jasper had a bargaining chip up his sleeve: A bag of his most righteous Purple Haze, the World's finest and rarest.

Free of charge, of course.

No stoner in Laguna, not even the toughest ex-DEA kind with parental and control issues, could refuse such an offer.

In all honesty, I didn't see the rush. It's not like I needed clothes or even my board for that matter. Surfing this time of year is out of the question. The water's cold, freezing cold, and the weather's too unpredictable. We could easily wait a week or even a month from now.

Jasper wouldn't listen to me; he's too determined to get my board back—tonight. End of discussion.

My birthday gift held a lot of importance to him. The meaning behind the art work was everything he couldn't tell me. Like how much that night under the stars changed him. It broke him when he couldn't kiss me and it killed him even more when he saw the hurt in my eyes—the rejection, the confusion. He left to college with only one girl on his mind.

_Me._

But how could he tell the girl he wasn't allowed to have that he needed her in his life without actually having to say the words?

It cost my boy a lot of money and time for that unique design, but he wanted me to see one thing: I meant everything to him and changing my number didn't change a damn thing.

Jasper wasn't letting go of his Bean.

"I knew," I whisper, and it's such an ambiguous thing to say, especially since it comes out of nowhere, but he understands.

Leaned up against my seat in the car with his chin resting on my shoulder, he whispers back, "Then why didn't you call me?"

"Because," I stare out the windshield at Edward's back as he does a quick recon of Charlie's apartment. SEAL to the end, old habits die hard. There's only a few minutes left of alone time with Jasper and being coy with him is pointless, "I was mad at you."

"You were mad at me?" He doesn't understand the concept. "Why?"

"Because after you didn't kiss me, you left to Berkeley and didn't say goodbye or anything, but kept texting me like we were friends."

"But we were friends."

I sit up and twist my body around to face him. "No, we weren't."

He smiles weakly and brushes the hair from my eyes. "Yeah, you're right, we weren't."

Teaching me how to surf was his way of getting closer. That friendship thing he kept feeding me was a lie. That was never his intentions. We both knew it.

"All right," the car door opens, surprising Jasper and I with a jolt, and Edward slides into his seat, "he's home. You ready?"

"Yeah, definitely," I say, and gulp back my nerves, because suddenly I'm not so sure.

Jasper falls back into the seat, but keeps his gaze on me. "How you want to do this?"

"Um," the knots in my stomach are cramping and painful, "I don't know."

Jasper senses my discomfort and sits up in a flash and rubs my arm. All his concern is on me. "You can stay in the car if you want. We'll understand."

"No." Edward reaches over and unbuckles my belt. "She's going."

Jasper shakes his head. "Man, if she's not ready to see him yet, we can't force her to do it."

"Who's forcing her?"

"No, it's okay—I'm okay," I assure Jasper, which earns me a proud smirk from Edward.

He traces an imaginary line down the center of his chest (emulating mine). "Keep dancing."

The thing with my boys is there are parts of me in them, but they both see me differently. Jasper wants to nurture, love, and take care of me. He's the softness in my world. Edward wants me to fight and come out with all my guns blazing, because he sees the strength under my demure exterior. He's the harsh truth of my world. Night and day these two, so different, yet alike, and when they're combined with me?

We're invincible.

That's why being with them is just as essential to my life as breathing and without their air to sustain me, I'll die.

"Let's get this over with and go home, okay?" I say to them, and shake the bad thoughts away.

They nod, and we all get out of the car together.

The neighborhood's quiet and dark tonight. This would seem like a bad omen, but my boys keep me safe by putting me in the middle. They stay close to my side and surround me like thick, swirling smoke. There's no fear or uncertainty. All I know is their hands placed on my back as we walk to Charlie's apartment.

As we round the corner and enter the courtyard, I see Edward's right about Dad being up.

The house is buzzing and every single light is on. He's got a bad habit of not turning off lights once he's left a room. I remember following after him and making sure his electric bill wasn't sky high. He even told me having me around saved him over a hundred dollars. That's his weed money. He got even higher in the month of September and October. Maybe that's why he didn't notice those nights I stayed over at Alice's—but then maybe he knew, but didn't care, because the real danger was away at Berkeley.

He really had no idea what was toxic and what was truly best for me.

"I'll do the talking," Jasper says, because out of the three of us, he's the mediator.

Edward waves him on and grins a smart-ass grin that showcases all his perfect teeth.

I laugh, and smother my face in the side of his arm. These last few hours my mystery boy allows things to slip. Around me, he tries to keep things on the surface, hesitant to show too much of himself, but with Jasper here, he's relaxed. That bond and connection they share, he can't hide. It comes out as sarcasm, playful humor, and love.

Jasper raises his fist and knocks twice.

We hear a groan from inside the house and several things falling to the floor with a crash. There's about thirty seconds of silence and then the door unlocks. Charlie thrusts it open and stares at me with red, irritated eyes, but he's not wasted. Nor is he completely sober. Dad's in this limbo stage of hyperglycemia, sleep, a fuzzy head, and looking for his bong. I'm almost positive that he's been awake for about five minutes, give or take a few.

"Dad," I say on reflex.

"Charlie," he replies.

I nod, because this is how he's going to play it.

"Good evening, Charlie," Jasper speaks up, and holds out his hand, but his civil gesture's ignored.

"J-Man," a steely, half-crossed glare gets taken off me and directed at my boy, "you've got a lot of nerve showing up here…" he shoots daggers at Edward, "…the both of you do."

I'm a coward, and cowering away is exactly what I want to do right now. Edward and Jasper sense that. It's weird how they're so tuned in to everything I'm feeling. The slightest flinches or increase in blood pressure have them in protective mode. I can't even push back a tear without them rushing to comfort me and shield me from the horrors of this world. The last thing they'll ever want is for me to hurt.

And right now, Dad's tearing me apart.

Edward forgets about being respectful or even diplomatic and pushes his way into the apartment. "We came to get the rest of Bean's stuff."

Charlie shuffles back, but still holds his ground. "I sold everything."

"Everything?" Jasper's panicked now, only thinking about my board, and follows Edward's lead. "She's your daughter, man."

"Yeah, she's my daughter, _man_," Charlie mocks. "But did that stop you assholes?"

We understand his anger. Any parent, good or bad, would disapprove of their daughter hanging out with two older boys, and would want to put a stop to it. On the outside looking in, everything about our relationship's wrong, but it's not about using each other or taking advantage of me. Whether or not we've actually said it, we all really do care and love each other so much. These boys of mine are older and matured, but they would die before ever hurting me.

And if that's me being naïve or hopeful, so what?

I'm not going to apologize for being with them—not to Dad, not to Alice, not to anyone.

"Come on," Edward grabs my hand and yanks me through Charlie's blockade, "we'll grab whatever's left."

Jasper's left there to attend to him. "I get that you're pissed."

"You knew she was off limits to you. That day I showed you her picture, I seen the way you looked at it. I knew right then, but thought, '_No, he's an adult, a college guy, he wouldn't do that to me—he wouldn't try to screw my sixteen year old daughter!'_"

The arguing continues, but I can't hear a thing anymore. Edward's whisked me into my room and closed the door. He's sheltering me from the chaos, but I have a ton of it inside me.

"Oh, shit, shit, shit." I run my hand through the clumpy mess that's my hair and pace the small room. "This was such a bad idea."

"Yeah, and your pops is a fucking liar," Edward says.

"Huh?" I glance up at him and he gestures behind me. Spinning around, I see her leaning up against the wall, perfect and beautiful, and still exactly where I left her. "My board!"

Maybe hugging an inanimate object is weird, but I don't care—this board, this piece of wood, is my relationship with Jasper, and my moment with him under the stars. It's too precious in so many ways. So yeah, I'm fucking hugging her and kissing her. Promising she'll never leave my sight ever again.

Edward tugs on my arm. "Bean, focus." He takes a large suitcase from my closet and props it open on my bed. "Pack up everything you can."

"Okay," I say, but kiss the board for good measure.

Tying my hair back, I go for my drawers. Pulling clothes out, I stuff them into the suitcase. Then I go for discarded items on the floor. Basically packing up whatever I see. When I turn back to Edward's, he's gone. The door's cracked open. I can hear the muffled yelling from the living room and it's only getting louder. My curiosity freezes me mid-packing.

I have to know what's going on.

Dropping what I have in my hands, I tiptoe through my mess and poke my head out the door.

From my disadvantaged angle, I can only see the Edward's back. He's got his arms folded over his chest. Charlie's pacing in front of him, but where's Jasper?

This causes an irrational panic in me.

"We didn't plan to fall for Bean," he says, and my heart beats faster.

Just hearing his voice makes me feel better.

Charlie stops and glances up at Edward—a sturdy tree in my forest. "We? Did you just say we? Who's the we?"

"Just like he said, it wasn't planned," Edward chimes in and settles back on his heels.

"The two of you," Dad's shaking his head in disbelief and pointing fingers, "are screwing around with my daughter?"

God, I hate the way he said that.

_Screwing_?

_Really_?

I'm not a screw and they sure as shit aren't a damn screwdriver. He makes what we have together sound so vulgar and immoral. It's hard for me to stay put and let him continue to berate my boys.

"Charlie, I swear to you," Jasper comes into view and he's pleading with Dad, hands clasped in a prayer, "it's not like that. She's more than that to us. We fucking love her, okay?"

My eyes go wide. That word. He said it. I don't even know what to think or what to do. It stops time. That's all I know. Even my heart takes a moment to digest what she's heard. But the lack of beats causes a pang in my chest. I grip the fabric of my shirt and yank on it. This does nothing. I need to breathe. That's it. Breathe in and out. Allow them to acknowledge they love you. Even if they never said it to me, I know it's real.

In times of stress, the truth always slips out.

Leave it to Charlie to spoil the moment.

"You guys love her? My little girl? That's who you love?" He's grinding his teeth to the gums. I can hear the deterioration from here. "She's not even old enough to vote, you get that, right?"

I fucking loathe that my age is the problem. They can't love me because of what? I can't vote—as if that shit matters. I'm not going to change much in ten months, but somehow, what I have with my boys today will be okay then? I'll be worth more and can be loved? Society has its rules, but unless I'm not out there killing or even thieving, should I be expected to follow them?

If we're not hurting anyone, what's the big deal?

Edward takes a step into Dad and shows his dominance. "I don't really care if you approve or don't approve. The shit we agreed on still stands, nothing's changed."

Charlie blanches. "You would be in just as much trouble as I would be, Sailor."

"Yeah, but you got more to lose. How long were you planning to smoke your days away until you went back to work? Disability doesn't pay shit, but your DEA salary is worse. Drugs aren't cheap, partner."

_Partner?_

Jasper joins in. "We promise you, our business is on track. This thing we have with Bean, isn't going to change that."

I'm reminded of their conversation about me being a complication. I used to think it was silly to be afraid of Charlie. But now I see there's more to the story.

"So, that's it?" He collapses into a bar stool, beat down and defeated. "You guys got everything figured out, huh? You've resorted to blackmailing me to have your way with my kid?"

"Jesus, man, it's not like that. Bean's not some..." Jasper stops himself and sighs. He rubs his forehead, clearly frustrated. "Look, you can do whatever you want, call whoever you need to, but if Edward and I go away for this, everything we planned goes away with it too. You get nothing. No weed, no money, and your position in the DEA? Forget about it."

"You've got two options here, Swan," Edward holds out his hand to Jasper. The bag of Purple Haze is put into his palm and he wiggles it in front of Dad's face. "You can accept our offering as a mutual understanding and a future business venture or stick with your principles by making this shit harder than it has to be. But either way, she's still leaving with us."

He scoffs. "And what sort bribe are you going to offer her mother?"

Then it hits me, all those calls from Mom I'd ignored, her frantic voice urging me to call her. I'd assumed she was having one of her dramatic breakdowns about her husband again or she finally realized I swiped her canary diamond ring, but never in a million years would I believe Charlie was behind it.

I can't stay quiet any longer and go storming out of my room. "You called Renee?"

They all glance over at me. Each reaction different, but surprise is the common one.

"Yeah, you're damn right I did." Charlie doesn't try to deny it. In fact, he's pretty damn smug about it. "She'll be here tomorrow morning to take you back to Arizona. I told her about you skipping school, staying out at all hours of the night, and your pot smoking. I didn't even have to throw in your stealing. That's implied."

He's angry, but this is low, even for him. My life's over, and everything crumbles to pieces right in front of me. The heartbreak consuming and drowns me. I know once she gets here, there's nothing my boys can do to persuade her. She's a bulldozer and my happiness will be demolished in one swoop. What she takes back to Phoenix will be an empty shell of a person.

All my love and life and self will be left here in Laguna.

"How could you betray me like that?" Maybe what I say comes out intelligible; I can't see past my tears and dissolving into nothing seems like a good idea.

"Fuck!" Edward catches me before I hit the floor and wraps me in his arms. He picks me up and removes me from the house. Sitting me down on the stairs outside, he kisses me on the forehead. "Stay with her."

The next thing I know, Jasper's has me in his hold, hugging me tightly to his chest. He's telling me everything's going to be okay. Tender kisses on my lips and salty cheeks. He strokes my back in an effort to ease my fears. But smelling him and feeling his warmth against my own—even the steady drum of his heart—is my undoing.

How can I give this up?

What will I do?

How will I breathe?

I can feel the life being sucked out of me already.

"You're not leaving us," Jasper says for the millionth time, but it always feels like the first, and I want to believe him. "We won't let you."

"She's not like Charlie." I attempt to speak and pull myself together. It comes out as hiccups. "I can't reason with her. I tried to stop her from sending me here. I even ran away, but she called the cops and they found me. I spent three days in jail because of her. She gave me two choices: I could come here to live with Dad or go back to juvie. I figured, well, California can't be so bad, right?"

And to think, it's been the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Now it's all be taken away.

"If patience is worth anything, it must endure to the end of time. And a living faith will last in the midst of the blackest storm," Jasper whispers into my ear.

I sniff. "Gandhi."

"You've been reading that book I gave you."

The surf board wasn't the only thing that Jasper's sent me over the past few months. Every week or so, it would be something new and more personal to him. A book or two (well, lots of books to be exact) and music files sent to me through email. Even if I wanted to forget him, he wouldn't let me. The book on Gandhi was his last gift I'd received last week. I've been pouring over it every day and highlighting quotes.

I'm obsessed.

"Of course, I've read everything you given me." I pull away from the comfort of his chest and frown at the puddle of tears on his shirt. "I'm sorry."

"Forget about that." Jasper pushes the wet, matted hair away from my face. "I want you to know that I meant what I said in there…" he pauses and his eyes flick over my head. "What's up?"

I turn around in time to see my boy coming out of the apartment. Charlie's there, but he doesn't look at me. Whatever relationship we had is gone now. He just shuts the door and locks me out.

"Hey," Edward's got two suitcases in his hands and my board tucked underneath his arm, "you want to help me out, brother?"

"Shit, my bad, man." Jasper jumps to his feet and takes some of the load off.

Edward tells him thanks and walks up to where I'm seated on the stairs. He crouches down to my level. "Are you okay?"

I reach up and locate the scar along his right eye. He flinches to my touch, but doesn't move away. The raised and bumpy imperfection calms me. It's like throwing yourself into a whirling, violent tornado, and whatever happens from there, you just got to let the beast take you. "I'm okay."

He puts his hand over mine and doesn't look away. "Are you sure?"

"I hate that you can do that." I laugh, but the sadness is creeping up again, and a single tear slips by.

Moments like these are limited. No matter what Jasper promises, it's just talk. Tomorrow, Renee will come and scoop me up. I'll be on a flight back to Mesa by noon. That'll be the end of my love affair.

I ask before the courage disappears. "Will you guys still be here a year from now when I come back?"

"What?" Edward props the board up against the wall and sits down next to me. "Where in the fuck are you going?"

Jasper emerges from around the corner. Both suitcases are gone and presumably in the car. "She thinks her mom's going to take her back to Arizona."

"No, that's not happening," Edward says.

"But it doesn't matter what you guys say, my mom—"

"—She isn't taking you back, Bean!" Jasper interrupts. "We're not going to allow that. If that means we hide you here in Laguna or I have to take you to Berkeley and hide you under my bed or even, fuck—I don't know, we'll go to the damn Bahamas tomorrow and let shit settle down here. We'll do whatever it takes."

Edward gives Jasper a fleeting glance. They nod. Another conversation without me, but they've decided on something.

"Yeah, we can do that," Jasper says.

"It's not a bad idea," Edward replies.

"Do we have enough cash?"

"It'll set us back some, but it's doable."

"Emmett can wait until we get back. What do you think, a week or so, maybe two?"

"Yeah, whatever, man, let's just get the fuck out of Laguna for awhile."

It's hard to keep up with their words so fast and my neck hurts from looking back and forth between them.

"Okay…um," I raise my hand and wave it over my head to garner their attention, "what's going on? What just happened here?"

"We're leaving tomorrow." Edward finally looks over at me. "You've got a passport, right?"


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Hey, sorry so late, but life is a time sucker. It's here. Yay! Thanks for being patient. You rock. **

**Thanks to Brina for being awesome and sticking by me. Love you, girl.**

**And to my brand new beta, (which I so needed) Iris aka Mariahajile. Thanks a bunch for taking me on. Forever grateful. **

**Chapter Eighteen**

I wake up to the faint swishing of waves as they slowly roll onto the shore outside our bungalow. The sound's soothing and familiar, but not like home. The water's a clear aqua blue and takes a laidback approach. It's not as forceful or as brazen as the ocean in Laguna. Even the smell here in Exuma's different. The air's sweet, tropical, and... clean. God, man. Is that even the right word?

Back home, I get salt on everything: my food, my nose, my tongue, and even my skin. But in the Bahamas, it's almost like a taste of fruit or like there's a melon being chopped up on a new, unused wooden cutting board.

And that refreshing summer-y feel I get here is everywhere.

People are chill and take no rush in life. They eat, swim, and lie about on the beach all day. When it gets dark, they light a fire, drink beer, smoke a little weed − well, a lot of weed, actually − and then watch the sun rise. They sit back and marvel at how beautiful and unreal the sky is as it turns from a deep purple into a soft orange and pink.

There are no worries here, nor are there any concerns for part-time parents or intrusive tribe members. We're worlds away from the bullshit problems and chaos that reside in Laguna.

It's heaven, and where am I?

I'm naked with my boys on a soft cloud of a bed, curled into Edward's side with my head on his chest, counting all of his slow, steady breaths, and matching his pace with my own. He's got his fingers in my hair, twisted into a possessive grip, and I don't dare pull away from him.

He wouldn't allow it.

Jasper's on my right and has his long limbs flung over my body. He's got his mouth pressed to the back of my neck, and when he mumbles my name in his sleep, which is quite often, it tickles and prickles my skin.

They put me in the center of everything: their bed, their friendship, and their hearts.

They love me. I see it in way they look at me and take care of me. Never in my life have I been made a priority. These boys put me first and risk everything to be with me. I'm a complication, but like Jasper's told me many times, "You're worth the hassle."

But is the hassle worth their business and freedom?

My boys break the law by simply being with me, but in their attempts to hide their girl away from the inevitable, they're committing a felony.

Taking a minor out of the country without parental consent is kidnapping. It doesn't matter if I went with them willingly or not; this Bahamas trip could possibly land my boys in jail for a long, long time.

They hustled and scammed to get me past security and the international checkpoint. Edward and Jasper are powerful tribe members, who run and control every aspect of Laguna, and knew this guy at the airport. He ushered us through without batting an eye, and for that, he ended up with three weeks' supply of Jasper's chronic.

Not a bad deal, if you ask me.

I knew nothing of this, and do you think they fucking told me?

Of course they didn't, and why would they? I wouldn't have gotten on that plane otherwise. My boys are smart and cunning. They know me and waited until after we landed in Nassau to break the news.

"Hey. Yeah… So, um… We're officially kidnappers. Are you hungry?"

What was I supposed to do?

It drives me nuts how blasé they continue to be about it.

"Don't worry so much, Bean."

Everything will be fine, right?

Hunky-dory, even.

I've tried to let it go and just enjoy our time together, but there's always this nagging voice in the back of my head asking the same damn questions. What will happen when we return home? Will my boys be arrested and thrown behind bars? Will their whole lives be in shambles and destroyed by one mistake?

Me.

I'm that mistake.

I don't want them to lose everything they've worked for, but I can't seem to stop my own selfishness. Despite knowing exactly where this will lead, walking away and being a noble martyr to the relationship isn't something I can do. My love and need for them is too powerful and surpasses what's right.

They'll have to remove my boys from me by force or in handcuffs.

Even then, I doubt that'll stop me.

Jesus. I'm a horrible person.

I have to stop obsessing. It's too early in the morning for all this underlying guilt and regret. What I need is something to take the edge off and put an end to these racing thoughts.

Lifting my head up as much as is allowed, I spot my pipe on the bedside table. It's a foot or so away, and the bowl's fully packed. The only problem I have is getting out of my boys' hold. Edward's grip constricts my hair, and Jasper's practically on top of me.

They sleep hard, and at times, it's a chore to wake their asses up, but for whatever reason, they have this instinctual bond with me. Every time I move, even if it's only a twitch or an inch, they move with me, getting tighter and closer, refusing to break our connection.

It grows stronger by the second.

But even in their deepest off all sleeps, they'll still bend to my wants and needs.

And what I want right now is to get my pipe, because I fucking need to smoke up some Bahama Breeze.

It starts with Edward, and he grunts with displeasure as I untangle his fingers. He doesn't wake up. Jasper's leg slides down and off me as I prop up, but his hand is lingering on my waist, fighting strong. It's not restraining, and I'm able to maneuver myself enough to lean over my rough boy and grab the pipe.

It's a success, but all this movement has jostled the bed and awoken Edward. He's not one for words, so I'm not surprised when he sits up and wraps his arms around me. The popping of my titty in his mouth − which, unbeknownst to me, during all my reaching and shit was hanging in his face − is delicious but unexpected, and causes me to yelp.

He's holding me there as his teeth scrape along my nipple, slowly licking and sucking it into his mouth. My eyes flutter and close. The moan harboring in the back of my throat is aching to come out, but I bite my lip in an effort to keep it at bay.

It's difficult with this boy− No. Scratch that. Edward's a man. There's no doubt about it. He proves that in the way he fucks.

"More," he whispers, and I manage to snatch the Bic off the table before he's flinging me over to my spot on the bed.

I'm lighting up the bowl as he disappears underneath the sheets. He pushes his head between my thighs and places his lips just above my clit. My heart's thumping, but I'm still able to function.

The first inhale goes down with a smooth ease and relaxes me damn near instantly. My worried thoughts follow the smoke up to the ceiling and disappear. But that calm doesn't last long, because Edward's attentiveness to my pussy tenses me back up.

He uses two fingers to spread me wide open. I'm on full display for him, and he's staring at me. I can feel his gaze; so intent and enamored. My breath hitches as he tastes me with the tip of his tongue. It's quick and nothing big, but his mouth on me is fucking everything.

I'm anticipating his next move and take another hit from the pipe. It's getting harder to maintain my stoner's focus. Edward's never gone down on me before. He's always filled that need of mine to get fucked fast and hard. Jasper's the fanatical one, making sure to service me. He'll offer to do that first before anything else. He's pretty damn good at it, too.

But when Edward does it— Oh, shit!

He's back at it again, drawing lazy caresses up and down my pussy with his fingers. It's tender, barely even a touch, but he's building up and adding more pressure. The pleasure hits all my nerves endings and makes my limbs go limp. The pipe drops from my grasp and goes somewhere.

I don't even give a shit.

Edward blows out this content, almost wistful breath and leans in, flattening his tongue and licking me in one long, sure stroke from hole to clit.

"Oh, fuck!" I jerk, arching my back, but he puts a hand on my stomach and pushes me down.

Nudging my legs further apart by rocking his head from side to side, he kisses my pussy as deep and as forceful as he would my mouth.

I'm clutching the sheets, breathing heavily through my teeth. My guy, this beautiful man, hums as he eats me out, and the vibration it creates on my clit is insane.

Tender and gentle are not part of Edward's style; he's just ramping up. I know it. My guy's preparing my pussy for the roughness to come, and this is him issuing his last warning to me.

Flee now, baby, before I really fuck you.

"More." I repeat his previous whisper, but the trembling of my voice and the slight quivering of my body set him off.

Edward groans, hooking his arms under my legs and pushing them up toward my chest. He slams his tongue into my pussy and devours it. Licking and biting my lips and clit, nothing is off limits to him, and he sucks with relentless fervor.

Pain sears through me; it's sharp but wonderful. I'm a chaotic mess as I pull and rip out my hair. He's got me fucking wet and throbbing in his mouth.

My pussy aches for more.

Shoving my hands under the sheets, I grab his head and forcefully grind myself all over his face. I'm rocking my hips along with his tongue and setting up this hectic rhythm.

He takes it all, gives it back to me just as hard, and plunges two fingers into me.

He hits me deep, and my eyes go wide, but I don't say a fucking word.

He curls them upward and presses down. There's tension in my bladder. I move away from him as it gets too uncomfortable. He follows me, not letting me off that easy. I'm dying, ready to scream, and I know it's going to happen.

"Baby," I moan and squeeze his head with my thighs.

Edward slides out and traces his slippery fingers up to my clit. He rubs it and inserts his tongue into me.

It's incredible. The warm and soft feel of it is electric. He thrusts his tongue in and out of me, and fucks me as hard with it as he would if it were his dick. I'm struggling to breathe. My heart's beating and failing, reminding me how fragile she is… but I don't want him to stop.

Every stroke into my pussy and rub on my clit chip away the last bit of my restraint.

My low sighs are loud moans now. "Oh, God! Fuck, Edward!"

I'm thrashing and pulling the sheets up to my chin.

Jasper wakes and sits up with a start. Glancing around, he's rubbing his eyes in an effort to focus. He looks down at me confused, brows bunched together. I don't say a word; I can barely fucking breathe. We just stare at each other for a long moment. Jasper observes the pleasure and insanity on my face. He listens to Edward's fingers slamming into my wet pussy. And the humming. God, that fucking humming. He doesn't speak or moan when he's impaling me with his dick, but eating me out makes him sing?

It all comes together for Jasper, and he smiles. "How's your morning, baby?"

"Good—"

Edward growls, cutting me off abruptly with a painful bite to my clit and a forceful thrust of three fingers into me.

That's all it takes, and I'm done.

I'm so done.

The tingles move from my clit down to my lips and reverberate off my inner walls. I clench and come around Edward's fingers, my legs smashing his head into a vice. He pulls out, rubbing and stroking me, pushing my orgasm inward. It's intense, lasting only seconds, but leaves my pussy twitching.

I'm hyperventilating, forcing air into my lungs, and attempting to slow my heart down.

As if he's reading my mind, Jasper nods and picks up the discarded pipe. The bowl glows cherry, and he inhales deep. He holds it in and leans down to blow it into my mouth. This goes down smoother than expected, but his lips stay on mine. He's kissing me. The smoke escapes through our dancing tongues and clouds the room.

Edward pops out from between my legs and lies beside me in the bed.

"Let me get a hit off that."

Jasper passes him the pipe, but then he turns back to me and smirks. "My turn."

Before I can agree, he's underneath the covers and has his mouth on me.

*()()*

Day two into our Bahamas trip, we eat at Big D's for breakfast ‒ because munchies ‒ and catch a boat tour with Captain William. There are a lot of places to visit in Exuma, like their neighboring Cay Islands and George Town, but it's a half-day event.

The crew passes out fliers, going over what to expect and what to do if we get seasick.

The captain makes sure to stress one point over and over again: "Do not puke on my boat."

Around nine, we board the Coastline Adventures with five other couples and families and set sail, except that this is a powerboat and goes fifty to sixty miles an hour. The waves aren't too choppy, and it's a smooth ride, but I can see where someone's stomach might get a little iffy. With fifteen people and a six-man crew, it's really crowded. It's hard to maneuver without elbowing someone in the gut or hitting them the face ‒ all on accident, of course.

The people on the boat with us are nice and mostly stay to themselves, but I catch a few curious sets of eyes watching my interaction with my guys. They seem okay at first when I kiss Jasper and hold his hand, but they show immense discomfort when I turn around and kiss Edward.

These public displays of affection are chaste and innocent. It isn't like I'm dropping to my knees and sucking both them off.

What we're doing isn't a big deal to us or the locals, but to someone from Louisville who hasn't seen this kind of relationship before, it can be unusual.

But I'm a hippy and a rebel through and through, and have gotten pretty good at not giving a shit about what people think of me or my guys.

"Up ahead, Pig Island." Captain William's static voice blares through his intercom.

According to the fliers and the talk around the boat, it's a popular destination among vacationers. I have no clue what to expect or what they're talking about. From what I can tell, there isn't much to see. The beach is barren, shrouded by trees, and shows no indication of a farm or anything else.

I'm confused and a tad disappointed.

But as the boat shuts down and glides into the shallow waters, one of the crew members hops up from his seat and points to the shore. "Look. Here they come."

About ten to fifteen pigs come barreling out of the tree line and hurl themselves into the water. They swim ‒ actually fucking swim ‒ up to the boat and oink their way into people's hearts. Everyone's leaning over the side, their hands outstretched for the pigs to push their wet snouts into and sniff.

"Bread!" a crew member yells over the chaos. He gets a couple of loaves and tosses them to people for a dollar a bag.

Edward catches one and hands the guy a five. "Keep the change."

Jasper smiles at me and bumps his shoulder with mine. "What do you think? Want to try to feed one?"

"Definitely." I bite my lip, suddenly unsure of myself, and glance between my guys. "Maybe one of you could show me first."

Edward nods at Jasper.

"All right," he says and pulls a piece of bread out of the bag. Dangling it outside the boat, the pigs swim up to him and sniff at the food. Gently nibbling at the corners, the pigs recognize it and gobble all of it out of his palm. Jasper leans back and smiles me. "It's easy, right?"

"Yeah. Okay," I say, and Edward hands me a piece of bread.

Getting up on my knees, I lean over the side of the boat, my offer hanging over the water. Edward and Jasper both keep a hand on my back to prevent me from falling over. A pig with black spots notices me and swims right for us. Just like the white one did with Jasper, this pig sniffs at the bread and nibbles at the edges.

"Here, boy. Go on. Eat it." I wiggle it in from of his snout, but out of nowhere, he bypasses it and goes straight for my arm. He chops down into my flesh. Hard. "Aghhh!" I scream and chuck the rest of it at the pig's head. The bread bounces off his skull and splashes into the water.

Jasper and Edward stare at me. They're turning red in the face, trying really hard not to laugh, but it breaks through in a thunderous roar. They can't contain themselves; both of them are doubled over and holding their stomachs.

I glare and smack their arms. "It's not funny."

They laugh even harder at me.

My whole body flares up with intense heat from embarrassment. "Stop it. That thing could've killed me."

Jasper breathes through his nose in effort to maintain his composure. "Bean." He lifts up my arm to examine the damage, but of course, there's nothing to see, not even a red blemish of the assault. "Baby, they don't have any teeth."

The captain, who witnessed it, tells me and everyone else on the boat that the pigs, although at times overzealous, are completely harmless. He even encourages people to get into the water with them.

Jasper pulls off his shirt and jumps into the water without missing a beat. The pigs swarm him and push their noses into his face. He pets their heads, and they oink with excitement. He laughs, and I'm really enjoying watching him interact with the animals. The more he pets them, the bigger his smile gets and the deeper in love I fall.

"Nature looks good on you," I say.

"Come on, Bean." Jasper pleads up at me with his beautiful blue eyes. "Get in with me. I'm not going to let them hurt you."

As tempting as he is, I shake my head. "No. I can't. I'm sorry. They find me too delicious…" I pause and scan the water. "Where's Edward?"

"Right here," he says from behind me, but before I can turn around, he's picking me up and tossing me into the water.

I scream bloody murder all the way down and splash in next to Jasper. Popping up to the surface, I push my wet hair back and look for the demon pig. He's close by and eyeing me.

"Stay there," I say to him. His curiosity's piqued, though, and he comes at me full speed. "Oh, shit!"

Jasper laughs as I throw myself into his arms and shield my face into his chest. He's holding me tight and saying sweet words into my ear, trying to calm me, but even the cold, wet snout of the pig on my arm gets my heart racing with fear.

Jasper feels this and sighs.

Edward says something like, "I know," and splashes down in the water next to me a second later.

The pig doesn't bite and disappears altogether.

"Where is he? Is he gone?" I ask.

"Edward's diverted his blood lust with bread," Jasper says.

"Not funny," I grumble.

Jasper pulls me away from the comfort of his embrace. "No teeth. Remember?"

"No teeth," I repeat, mostly to myself, and peek over my shoulder. The black-spotted pig that bit me is to my right. He's sizing me up but not growling. "Hey, bud..." I tentatively hold my hand out to him.

He sniffs it but doesn't go in for the kill. The thing actually smiles at me in all his toothless glory. Seeming docile this time around, I risk my life and pet his head. Nothing happens. The demon pig loses interest when he realizes I don't have any food and swims away.

I grin and glance back at my equally grinning guys. "Fearless. Am I right?"

Edward waddles his way through the water to me and traces the length of my scar. "We'll see how fearless you are with the sharks."

My heart stops when his finger leaves my chest. "Wait. There are sharks?"

*()()*

After the minor scare on Pig Island, it's fun just being with them. The water feels nice, and it's so clear and ideal for snorkeling, which we do on Blue Hole. The gear's provided, but like everything, you have to pay a couple American dollars.

There are some murmurings from the people on the tour that the chances of seeing fish are going to be slim, but we get lucky and see a lot. There are a few yellowtail snappers, a school of blue tangs, a rock beauty, some Spanish hogfish, and, my absolute favorite, midnight parrotfish.

They're beautiful, like a starry night sky, with this deep, hypnotizing blue. It instantly reminds me of my board.

I miss her.

At the Starfish Stop, one of the boat's crew members, Jayson, has unburied one of the many massive starfish from underneath the sand. This thing's a deep burgundy and heavy. Apparently, they can weigh between eleven and fifteen pounds. Jayson says this one's probably around eight, maybe nine. The thing's huge and pretty, but it's a freaking carnivore.

Yeah, ever since my near-death with Bud, the black-spotted pig, I'm not looking to become dinner to a starfish, so I quickly pass it over to Edward.

Again, both my guys laugh at me and give me pity kisses on the forehead.

Captain William stops at George Island for food and shopping. It's the capital of the Exuma Islands and absolutely gorgeous, freaking amazing.

There's a lot to do here and so much to see, but my guys want me to pace myself. We're going to be here for a couple weeks, maybe three, so there's no need to rush things.

Jasper and Edward insist on one thing above anything else: spending lots of money on me. They don't want me to steal, like I'm that freaking stupid, but I think, more than anything, they want to make me happy.

And I am. Extremely.

But I also think they want me to go home with something. They take me to a couple jewelry shops, but my main focus is these maxi dresses I've seen a couple ladies walking around George Town in.

And once I put one dress on, I'm hooked and vow to wear nothing else for the rest of my life.

The beaches surrounding this island town are nothing if not incredible.

This time of year yields great weather and small crowds. It's practically deserted, and at times, we feel like these beaches are ours and ours alone. We sunbathe, me topless at times, until some guy crosses the line by saying something inappropriate to me. Edward gets all protective after that and demands I keep my bikini on ‒ while we're on public beaches, of course.

I understand, but he keeps going on about assholes not minding their eyes.

"You either gotta keep yourself covered, or I'm gonna kill the fucker."

Knowing his past, I put my top on and keep it on.

When we get restless, we swim. Often, these dips in the water start off with my guys chasing me and throwing me in when they catch me. Always the center of attention, they put me between them in the ocean, surrounding every aspect of my life.

Things turn heated many times. We can't keep our hands off each other, and they finger me a few times in the ocean, but they're teases and don't get me to completion. I try to get them to come at the same time, but the beaches get busy and we aren't alone. But kissing them isn't inappropriate; making-out with guys and having them make-out with each other in the Caribbean is as natural and instinctual as breathing.

Of course, our PDA always turns heads, but it isn't as judgmental or frowned upon like it is in Laguna. The Bahama natives are laidback, open-minded, and give me a freedom with my guys that'll be hard to let go.

Around noon, we eat lunch at this amazing place and hook up with Jayson for some native chronic. In passing conversation, he'd gotten wind of our interest and sold Edward a bag of his primo weed.

The marijuana grown here is good, amazing even, but it's nothing compared to what Jasper can create. I tell him this all the time. He gets it but doesn't really grasp the concept that it's his doing, not just Edward's Afghan seeds.

But my guy's humble.

We smoke a bowl with Jayson. He's a nice guy and smart as hell. Jasper and Jayson share the same beliefs and morals. Both men want to change the world. Jayson talks about going to Africa and building schools for kids.

"Education's something they're starving for."

I see the light in Jasper's eyes get brighter and witness his epiphany.

The captain rounds everyone up around four, and we head back to Exuma. We stayed longer than planned in George Town, so we're unable to see the sharks ‒ thank God ‒ or the Grotto. Captain Andrew says he's doing another tour in the morning, and it'll hopefully stay on schedule.

By the time we sit down at Santanna's for dinner, I'm exhausted. The food on my plate doesn't get touched, which is so unlike me, because I can barely keep my eyes open at the table.

"Bean's burnt," Jasper says, but his voice seems like he's a million miles away.

They pack up my food for later and pay the check, and then we leave.

Jasper talks about Gandhi and his 'Gandhism' regarding the business. Edward listens, never saying much, and just carries me in his arms all the way back to our bungalow.

I fall deeper and deeper into them.

The last thing I hear before I drift off into the waves is Edward's rough voice, strained and just above a whisper, meant only for Jasper's ears to hear. "We can't lose her."

*()()*

I don't sleep long enough to dream. My guys rouse me around nine to watch another day fade into night. The ocean looks like fire, the sun glistening and reflecting its amber rays on the calm waters, which creates this breathtaking explosion.

It's the most incredible and unreal sight in this world.

In the distance, we hear music, a soft and rambunctious beat. All the locals are throwing a party for the tourists on the long stretch of the beach that's about half a mile away from us. They have bonfires, dancing, delicious food, and strong alcohol. Everyone in Exuma was invited to this impromptu celebration, including us, but we politely declined. We got our own thing going on with Jayson's weed, a few strong, black beers, some fish tacos cooked up on the grill, and Jasper's Bob Marley playing loud on the stereo.

This trip has always been about us and nobody else.

It's a little before midnight, and we're sitting out on our bungalow's quaint porch, with the serene ocean as the backdrop. The moon's huge and insanely bright in the sky. It affords me the immense pleasure of observing every smirk or playful glare my guys give me. I'm not high, per se; more buzzed than anything else. The cilantro lime rice and tortillas sucked up most of the alcohol. The clear head's a nice change. No longer do I need the help of inebriation to be bold and confident.

With one look, the men in my life make me feel beautiful and wanted.

I'm sitting on Edward and leaning into his chest. He's got his arms snaked around my waist and face tucked into my neck. Jasper has my feet in his lap and is rubbing out all of my stress. This life of mine is like a surreal dream. Every now and then, I'll pinch myself, thinking I'll wake up in my bed at Charlie's house or, much worse, at home in Arizona.

But those places are no longer my home or where I belong, because I've never felt safer than I do now, comforted in my guys' love and embrace.

They're my true north.

"Our chronic will be cheaper and healthier than your local shrink," Jasper jokes.

Edward scoffs and buries his face into my shoulder. He doesn't say what he's thinking, but I already know.

So does Jasper. "You've got your ideas, and I've got mine."

The aggressive one wants to acquire their dominance in Laguna with force, but his opposite wants to get as far away from that as possible. He believes being a successful pot dealer can be done with little to no violence. Not everyone needs to be shook up to pay. Jasper wants to be that alternative medicine for people by selling them illegal substances. The way he sees it, weed is better than those 'dirty' pharmaceutical drugs doctors shove down their patients' throats. One puff of Jasper's chronic can treat pain, alleviate depression and anxiety, and bridge the gap in social division. The jocks can smoke with the geeks and cure bullying in schools.

Of course, his scope of hope widens the higher he gets.

"Hey, man, if you want to play Mother Theresa to every fucking waster in Laguna, be my guest," Edward says.

Jasper takes this exactly as I hear it. "For all the bad shit we do, you don't think we owe the universe some good?"

It's about checks and balances, but Edward doesn't see life this way. He's seen too much bad to see any good. My flawed heart aches for him. If only I could kiss all that pain away and make him that innocent boy again.

"Go to Africa. You can do some good there," Edward says. He doesn't want to fight with him about it. "But don't think for one second that these assholes in Laguna won't slit your throat to get that weed, man."

I cringe at the brutality of his words. The fear oozes off me, and the guy with his protective arms around me feels it.

"That won't happen," Edward whispers in my ear but quickly turns his attention to Jasper. "All I'm saying is sell to whomever you want to, but when they don't pay us, who's going to do what they gotta do to collect it? You? No. I'm doing that shit, and I'm not going to say it won't get bloody. It probably will."

That's Edward's role. He's the enforcer, the guy who'll pound on doors and break skulls to get what's owed. Jasper's too empathic, too good, and hurting another life would destroy that light in him.

"The mind is everything. What you think, you become." Jasper takes the bong off the table and tokes up. The water bubbles, and smoke builds. He blows it out, and I'm drowning in the sweet, pungent scent. "It doesn't have to be a dirty business."

I smile at him, overwhelmed by his heart. He shrugs and holds out the bong to me. It's hard to say no. My brief stint of sobriety is as implied: brief. The chronic burns red, and my eyes go wide. The essence of everything flows into my lungs, warming me from the hair follicles on my head and all the way down to the tips of my toes.

Edward sits up and pulls it away from my lips. He's resting his chin on my shoulder while I shake the lighter and light him up. He's the first one to inhale deeper and longer without coughing.

My guy's a badass.

"Enough shop talk." Edward moves his hips up and into me. Maybe he's just adjusting himself or perhaps his ass has fallen asleep, but most likely, he's trying to kill me. "What's your plan, Bean?"

Jasper's eyes flick to me. "That's a good question."

"Um…" My face burns up. "What do you mean?"

"You have to go back to school," Jasper says.

"No," I say and cross my arms over my chest. "Laguna High is… No. I can't go there and be with those people."

"We can't let you drop out, either," Edward says.

I open my mouth to argue, but Jasper holds up his hand and speaks first. "Even though we're drug-dealing bums, we finished school. That's step one in life. You can't get to step two any other way."

I'm shaken awake and brought back to real life by my guys' concern.

It's a total buzzkill.

"Do we have to talk about this now?"

"Yes," they both say.

"Why?" And now I'm a pouting child. All my problems with Charlie, Mom, and that waste of space called Laguna High can wait until we get back home, right?

"We give a shit," Edward says, and he squeezes me tighter to prove his point.

"And we know you'll keep avoiding it if we don't talk about it," Jasper adds.

The truth is that I have a plan. The second I walked away from school that day, I knew what path in life I was choosing. School and Laguna High aren't important to me, but education is. Maybe I've been lazy and enjoying spending my days and nights with my guys too much. The Bahamas trip made my slacker behavior worse. I'm still a stupid kid. My thought process isn't always steered in the right direction, but eventually, I'm going to get where I was going.

They need reassurance.

"I'm going to get my GED, and then after that, I want to take a few English Lit classes at a local community college. Maybe even try to get an art degree."

Jasper's eyes widen with surprise. "You're kidding."

"No. I've always wanted to do something like that," I say as a sort of excitement fosters in my chest. "My mom took me to an art gallery once and it…" I move my hands, trying in vain to come up with the perfect word. "It mesmerized me. I begged her to get me paint supplies, but she was more interested in me taking ballet. So, I decided to do it on the sly."

Edward grabs my chin and directs my face toward him. The intensity of his eyes is more than my heart can take. "What do you paint?"

"Nothing, really," I say and blush under his gaze. "I mostly just draw, but I haven't done it in a while. Shoplifting kind of became my thing to do."

"That's rad." Jasper's grinning from ear to ear. "We're getting you some supplies as soon as we get home."

"That's sweet, guys, but it's really not necessary—"

"It's happening." Edward's nodding and forces me to nod with him. "Just say yes, Bean."

"Yes, Bean," I repeat like a robot.

"Come here." He laughs and kisses me.

The taste on his lips is a mixture of weed and beer. It ignites a powerful reaction within me, and my torso twists and contorts into him in my efforts to chase that high. He encourages my aggressive mouth with his tongue. Our hearts pound loudly as one.

A steady bump. Bump, bump, bump.

Edward sighs and takes my breath with him. I'm lost in his influential and physical pull. The only semblance I have to my outside surroundings is Jasper and his soft, harmonious singing.

The words 'One love, one heart' through Jasper's voice spin the world I know to be true upside down. My mind wanders to another beach far from here. I don't know why or where it comes from, but the image of my men as boys on the cliffs being together for the first time stirs something inside me. The way they've must have touched each other… Forceful hands meet a peaceful soul. Their pleasure amplifying with a thrust and a push, grunting and moaning, deep, unrestrained. All of these thoughts make me realize seeing them make-out in the Bahamas isn't enough.

I want more.

Greed is a deadly sin, a powerful one, and when the sin of lust is added to the mix, the devil comes out.

The last remainder of my bashfulness is wiped away, and my words are nothing more than a whisper, but they echo with significance across Edward's lips. "Fuck Jasper for me."


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Hey, ladies! I'm back. And it didn't take a month. If you're still rocking and toking with me, I want to say you rock my world. Once again, if you're not aware or somehow subtle across this story high, this is a poly-coupling. That involves sexual situations that may offend some. If you're dirty like me, let's do this!**

**To my pre-reader, Brina: Thank you for always being honest.**

**To my beta, Iris: Thank you so much for your help and awesome beta skills. **

**And if you haven't had a chance to nominate your favorite fandom author and stories, head over to TwiFic Fandom Awards Blog and show them how much you love them. **

**Chapter Nineteen**

Edward stops kissing me, but he remains close and deeply involved with my mouth.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Tilting back just enough to study every curve of my face, he's astonished by what he sees.

"You're fucking serious."

"Are we going to just keep tiptoeing around the subject?" I throw his previous words at him. "How's that going to work?"

The blacks of his eyes constrict into a pinpoint. "You think you're ready for that?"

I smile. The weight of his implications doesn't faze me. "Definitely."

"Bean..." He's thinking about all that could go wrong, but I don't want to hear it.

"Don't say no."

He says nothing and rubs out the nagging indecision that's forming a few creases along on his forehead.

"Hey." Jasper's now aware of our tense discussion, repositions my legs on his lap, and leans forward. "What's going on?"

Edward's spirit is brought back with a smirk, because he knows damn well how Jasper will fare in all of this. He raises a challenging brow. "You want to tell him?"

Assuming I'm all weed and talk, he's calling my bluff.

"I want this," I say and reach down to grab him. He's rock hard in his boardshorts. "And so do you."

"Yes." He presses my hand down and pushes my palm along his length, "But once this line is crossed…"

He's right; we can't go back. Things might get awkward, and maybe we'll never be the same with each other again, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. There's not a doubt in my mind. I need this, and it's so difficult for me to explain to myself, let alone out loud to them. All I know is that the mere thought of my guys together, even with my dull and limited imagination, makes my pussy swell.

"I don't care."

Jasper's eyes follow my hand's movement on Edward, getting rougher in my attempt to coax him into a yes, and it doesn't take him long to catch on to what I'm asking. He already wants to say no.

I see this even before he voices it and cut him off before he has a chance to break my heart. "Please. Let's just try it and see what happens."

My guys' gazes meet each other in unison, and they both go quiet. I watch them closely as they have one of their many telepathic conversations. Every minute change in their expressions is significant to me. Will they say yes or no? This is a huge thing I'm asking for, and I'm not oblivious to that fact, but we're together as one solid union. That intimacy with them doesn't stop with me. It also involves them being intimate with each other _without_ me.

"Look. I'm not stupid, okay? I'm not under any illusion you guys weren't something more before we got together. I see it in the way you look at each other and in the way you hide it from the world, but that shouldn't apply to me. I'm not the world; I'm your girlfriend. Hiding what you are from me is like…" I shrug, and my heartbreak seeps through. "It's like you're lying to my face."

Together, all the way, and no matter what the circumstances − that's what they promised me.

"Okay, Bean," Jasper says. _Finally_. "Whatever you want."

I clamp my hands over my mouth to hide the huge, excited smile. "Really? Like right now?"

Jasper chuckles, somewhat taken back by my enthusiasm. "You want to do this right now?"

It's guaranteed they'll overthink things if I give them time to do so, and their answer will most likely solidify into a no. I need to strike while the iron's hot and push this train forward.

"Yeah. Right now." I stand up and grab their hands, urging them to their feet, but they're like a thousand pound boulder; heavy and unmoving.

They look at me for a brief second and then confer with each other. This puts me on edge. Ultimately, it's up to them, and I fear they've already changed their minds. They put me at ease, though, with a joint head nod.

"Bedroom," Jasper says.

"Bedroom," Edward agrees.

They rise to their feet and put me the middle. I'm tightly tucked between them, and they keep me close as we make our way back into the bungalow. The stereo's playing Jasper's music, and Peter Tosh's soothing rhythm is welcoming. It drowns out the sudden uproar of my heart as we reach the bedroom.

I stand in the doorway and watch my guys go to work. They strip down the bed of all the pillows and comforters. It's a blank canvas now. There's a familiarity in their movements and how they want certain aspects of the room to be. I'm in awe of them, but I'm also getting nervous. That bold bravado I had outside is waning. I'm excited about what I'll see but scared about how it'll make me feel.

Jasper must sense the change, because he looks over at me, reading my body and the turmoil behind my eyes. "Bean, we don't have to…"

I shake my head and mouth 'I want this' over and over to him until that need of mine overcomes my nerves.

He nods and shares my relaxed smile. We both know there's no changing my mind.

"All right." Edward claps his hands and sits down on the edge of the bed. "How do you want do this?"

It just now occurs to me how staged and awkward this must feel to them. Sex is something that happens in the heat of a moment, and telling my guys to fuck in front of me is the furthest thing from spontaneity.

I'm the tether and instigator behind everything we do in this relationship. It's going to be up to me to initiate what I want.

"Maybe if I were to join you first…" I walk up to Jasper and lead him to over to the bed by his hand. "Then you two can finish."

He sits down next to Edward. Their eyes shoot up at me. The attention is intense and suffocating. I yearn for another hit off the bong, but my head's clearing up from the adrenaline pumping through my veins. This is not something I want to experience in a stoned, foggy haze. I need to be brave and sexy. If only I could focus on the mechanics of what's about to happen and not my emotions behind it…

"Take off your clothes," I say, and I'm surprised by my own ears when my voice comes out strong, almost stern.

They comply and peel them all away. My eyes rake over them; they're completely naked and tan, and it's obvious how ready they are. It's difficult to stay on task as my hormones rule me, urging me to drop to my knees and suck them off. Or better yet, scrap the boy-on-boy action and just ride each cock for myself.

_Back and forth_, I think.

Pulling the strings on my bikini, I let the fabric fall into a small pile on the floor. My eyes flicker up to find my guys' gazes on me. Before I can suck in a breath or even think, I'm being grabbed and pulled into the tight space between them. They're everywhere now. My eyes close as two hot, eager mouths are kissing my blushing, sun-burnt skin, steadily working their way up to my breasts.

Each boy takes a side.

Edward's focusing on my right nipple, and Jasper's dedicated his mouth to my left. They've got their own individuality with the sucking and tugging, but they're also so oddly in sync.

My fingers are curling into a tense clutch into the sides of their necks, but staying on my feet is becoming a losing battle. I'm quickly succumbing to their mouths and teeth. But their touch? Oh, God… That takes me to another level. The soft and rough hands on my body at once are a wonderful mixture of my guys. They move as one man, roaming down my back and over my ass. It's a tender caress at first from Jasper and then a gentle kneading from Edward, but it eventually turns into a painful squeeze from both.

I cry out, and my eyes go wide.

The fire's ignited, and I don't think about anything but my wants.

That want's the accelerant.

As I reach down and grip their cocks, my balance is thrown off. The pre-cum slickens my efforts, and they're hypnotized by my jerking craze.

Attentive, their beautiful eyes are always on me, and I burn brighter for them.

My thoughts don't even make it to my lips; they know me inside and out. They see it before I do, and wordlessly, without prompting, they comply with my inner demands.

Edward's the aggressor, initiating the kiss between them. He takes control by grabbing Jasper by the neck and pulling him to his mouth. It's violent when they crash together. One is exuding his dominance over the gentler heart, but then a shift happens, and they relax and fall into each other. Their lips aren't mismatched, fitting as a whole with some nibbling, pulling, and tender pecks.

The tongue's sparsely used, but when it is, I feel my pussy tighten with anticipation. Their strong tongues are powerful, prodding, and coaxing the other. I know how intense and amazing that feels.

Then the deep groans coming from their throats as they buck their hips up and push their dicks into my hands are sweet agony. I pump them faster. There's more pre-cum dribbling out, more twitching and jerking, and even more blood pulsating in the veins on their shafts.

They're harder than ever.

And I know how close my guys are to the edge, but I want my mouth on them when they come.

Getting down to my knees, I wrap my lips around Jasper first. He whimpers with surprise but doesn't thrust up on impulse. My sweet guy refrains, allowing me to take him in as deep and far as I can. He tastes salty, but it's familiar and addicting. I take him all the way back into my throat and then all the way back out.

Hollowing in my cheeks as I go up and down on his dick, I make it as tight and as wet as possible. I don't go all the way to the base with him. My main focus is near the head; it's the most sensitive. He grunts and shifts his hips, fighting back the urge to just fuck my mouth. Twisting his fingers into my hair, he follows the steady pace I'm setting. My hand grips his shaft, friction and pressure created with the fluent, circular motions of my wrist.

Releasing my suction on him with a pop, I pull Jasper's dick back towards his stomach. He's trimmed down − both my guys are − and I place the tip of my tongue at the base and lick to the top of the head. Giving him one last bob with my mouth and sucking every last bit of him, I turn my efforts towards Edward.

But he's already been watching me and responding to Jasper's unraveling.

Edward takes me by the arms and lifts me off the floor. My lips are pressed to his in a firm lock. I'm on my back on the bed. Jasper nudges my legs open with his hands. Edward's on top, still kissing and distracting me. My moans are muffled by his mouth. He doesn't stop − neither of them does − and it's hard to decipher who's fingering me and who's rubbing my clit.

_Fuck. _Does it matter?

Edward pulls away from my mouth. I'm panting, confused. I turn toward Jasper, and he's the one fingering me. Plunging in deep, he curls them upward and stills, trying to reach every part of me. Then he comes out slow, forcefully going back in and giving my pussy a few pumps.

I die when Jasper pulls his fingers out and sticks them in Edward's mouth. I watch as he tongues them and sucks each digit clean.

Jasper's smile is smug. "Our girl tastes good."

Edward needs to feel me for himself, and before I can even take a breath, he's plunging two of his fingers deep inside me. Jasper kisses me softly on the neck as his fingers now linger on my clit. He's toying with my sensitivity. He's taking note of what makes me moan, like when he massages it with the pad of his thumb or, better yet, when he pushes the lips together and rubs the clit between them. That makes my toes curl.

But it's Jasper's voice, so tortured with a strained yearning, whispering, "I want to be inside you so bad," in my ear that nearly makes me come on the spot.

"Oh, baby." I turn my head toward him and silence that pretty mouth of his with mine.

I'm twisted up with Jasper and relinquish all the control over to Edward.

Taking full advantage of my distraction, he tests the waters and pushes my limits. Sliding his fingers out of my pussy, he moves them down slowly. He rubs me for a moment, gaining my trust and compliancy, but then gets bolder and eases a finger into my ass.

Pulling away from Jasper with a jolt, I turn and lock eyes with Edward. He smirks and doesn't retreat. He pushes it further in, and it puckers. Slowly adding another finger and expanding me more, he goes in and out a few times. There's no pain, but it's interesting and an odd sensation.

I'm not sure if I like it.

Edward reads the uncertainty in face and withdraws. He glances over at Jasper. They smile, look down at me for a fraction of a second, and decide something. I'm holding my breath and anxiously waiting. My heart's pounding at an unnatural speed and painfully rocking against my sternum.

"Open your legs wide," Edward says, but he does the work for me by swinging my leg over his hip.

Jasper does the same with my other leg. "We'll be easy."

My only response is the truth. "Just touch me."

Jasper leads with one finger in my ass. He moves in an out of me with a gentle ease. Edward follows after him and inserts his finger into my pussy. They move together, but then two aren't enough. They add another one each − four fingers curling and pushing into me at an even, steady pace.

I can think of nothing right now; it's just actions all running over one another. Jasper's been setting the rules and pace, but Edward's getting restless. He wants to fuck me brutal. That's what he does. Faster and harder, my pussy smacks with their plunging fingers. I'm shaking and trembling, coming apart from the inside, piece by piece. Every muscle tightens, and the tingles in my toes are moving up. My pussy clenches, and the feeling's only getting stronger.

But I don't want to come, yet.

Reaching up between us, I place my hands on the back of their heads and push them together. They don't fight me and obey. My eyes are glued to their mouths as they connect. _Fuck!_ No matter how many times I see them kiss, it'll always ruin me.

Their fingers are slowing down now, but they're still gliding in and out of me. I'm paralyzed, unable to move. Edward's dick is twitching and poking my inner thigh. Jasper's dick is straining, too, but he's spilling pre-cum, causing his head to slide along my skin as he moves deeper into Edward's kiss.

I want them more than my heart can stand. I'm aching, throbbing, needing them to fuck me.

But then again, this wasn't supposed to be about me. I was only meant to be the catalyst. I was never meant to be a part of their explosion. I'm too close, and they're still too deeply immersed in me. My feelings and arousal are dictating the outcome.

I need to see them fucking _without_ me.

That's the whole point, right?

Putting my hand on theirs, I urge them to stop.

Jasper rips away from Edward's mouth and looks down at me in a panic. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Keep going." Crawling backward off the bed, I see the hesitance in their eyes, that fear of one thing. I grip each one of their hands and put them on my chest. "You're not going to lose me, okay?"

My words spark recognition, and there's an instant solace. They're seeing the truth in my eyes and reading my mind. Nothing's going to change the fact I'm their girl. All those walls they built to keep the world out fall away, and for the first time, they allow themselves to be real in front of me.

It happens just like that, too.

Edward grips Jasper by the sides of his face and pulls his back to his mouth. This kiss, though, is unlike anything I've ever seen from them. It's gentle, unhurried, and natural. I'm frozen in my spot, unable to move or look away. It's like these guys of mine are pieces of art in a gallery; I'm completely awestruck by the beauty of their paint and ease in which the artistry of their movements craft such a masterpiece in my presence.

I feel… lucky.

The music switches over to Leroy Smart's "Jah Jah." I'm aware of everything now by simply being out of the storm. This upbeat tempo affects my guys and their need. Jasper moves down with the rhythm and takes Edward all the way into his mouth. Oh, my fucking… _God._ I can't breathe. Holy shit. I need to sit down.

Stumbling back, I fall into a chair and watch as the scene unfolds. Everything about it is new to me but definitely not new to them. They've been together − many times, I'm sure. They know exactly how to feel up each other's bodies and what makes the other one feel good. It's just like how they know to kiss or touch me so deep inside.

Jasper's sucking Edward off and bobbing his head to the music. He strokes him with the twisting of his hand, but it's not the main focus. I'm so fascinated by it all and how Edward doesn't try to control everything. He's lying back with his eyes closed, completely silent. It's the sheets in his fist that are getting all of his aggression. He's using restraint but falls apart when he takes a glance over at me.

I stare at him as he licks his lips and follows my movement.

My heart stops as realization hits me. I've been touching myself this whole time. I've got two fingers shoved inside my pussy and the other hand massaging my clit. He smiles as my face and chest redden with embarrassment.

I'm turned on.

He knows it.

And this knowledge changes everything.

"Get on top of me," Edward says.

Jasper responds and hops up to straddle him. Edward smooths his rough hands over Jasper's ass and pulls him down, sliding his cock through his ass cheeks. A whimper from Jasper and a grunt from Edward blur the lines that are rapidly being crossed. I don't stop touching myself. The need to extinguish the ache these boys cause me only gets worse.

But I'm not a participant anymore, just an observer. It's difficult to keep up with everything that's going on. It's all happening so fast.

Jasper's engulfs Edward's mouth with a kiss as my rough boy thrusts his hips up. The head of his dick slips between them and pokes out. Jasper feels it on his backside, reaches behind him to grab it, and strokes it with a twist. I'm watching intently, seeing how my men like it. Like I'd guessed and mimicked with my own hands, Jasper's hand doesn't go all the way down on the shaft. The movement's quick and shallow, but effective.

Edward keeps bucking, trying to fuck that hand, until he's finally had enough of the teasing.

Because even from my poor, limited vantage point, I can see that's exactly what Jasper's doing to him.

Edward grunts in frustration and squeezes Jasper's waist. He flips him over onto the bed and pushes him face down. Edward pulls his ass up and jerks it towards him. A smile slowly forms on my face, because I recognize this position as Edward's favorite. I've been on the receiving end of it.

With the flurry of memories bombarding me, my hand drifts down and rubs my clit. I'm panting, getting myself worked up, and watching with anticipation as Edward finally takes Jasper from behind. It's the moment I've been waiting for. Edward licks his palm and strokes his cock. I moan a little loud, and he glances back. He sees how I'm twitching, trembling, and unraveling on this chair. I'm barely even breathing at this point.

He gives me a seductive, somewhat crooked grin and winks.

I tense and pump my fingers forcefully into my pussy. I'm in need of a release before my whole body combusts into flames.

Edward's got me where he wants me. He spreads Jasper's cheeks and spits to wet his asshole. He gives his palm another lick, strokes his dick to get it wet before finally lining it up to Jasper. My heart skips a beat as he enters him slowly. They moan as I moan. The thrusts of Edward's hips are slow and easeful, but deliberate. My eyes are glued to them. I watch as his cock goes in and out. Jasper grunts and clutches the sheets with every deep push. Edward's speed slowly picks up. He's got a hand on the back of Jasper's neck, and he's using that as leverage. The smacking sounds of their skin coming into contact are matching the smacking of my fingers against my wet, seriously defenseless pussy.

Edward pulls out, spits on his hand again, and slathers his cock with it. When he goes back in, he's pushing harder and getting rougher.

"Fuck!" Jasper yells, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

Edward's a machine. He's looking straight ahead, his face completely blank and emotionless. My eyes look down at Jasper, who's jerking on his own cock. I frown at the waste of a beautiful resource. I'm clenching, aching to be with him.

I go over to the bed and get myself underneath Jasper. He's surprised to see me there, but he tilts his hips downward and rubs the head of his cock between my lips.

"Please…" I grab him and redirect him to my entrance.

Jasper drops down and moans as he enters me with a powerful thrust. He attacks my lips, but he's not being soft with me anymore. All of his manners and self-control are lost in the chaos.

My pussy's so wound up, and the heat of his dick and the girth of him tightly tucked inside me are more than I can take. It feels so good and heavenly. Hiking up my legs to give him a deeper access, he pushes in and hits hard.

I cry out and throw my head back. Jasper groans into my neck. Edward's silent.

It's a chaotic blend of people and limbs, our movements different − Jasper being fucked from behind while I'm being made love to − but somehow, we all work together as one.

I'm not sure who comes first; maybe it's me. The explosion I was never supposed to be a part of is huge and obliterates everything − my breath and then my heart − and soon after that, I lose my damn mind. It's a powerful wave, long-lasting, and causes instant tingles. Even when Jasper thrusts one last time inside me, biting my neck and whispering my name, my pussy calls timeout.

She's done.

Then, like a Jenga tower, we fall one by one into an exhausted heap.

Edward collapses beside me on the bed, firmly holding and stroking his dick as he rides out his release. Jasper's shaking, but he's holding himself up in an attempt to keep his weight off me. Then his elbows finally give out on him, and he falls onto me. Wrapping my arms and legs around him like a vice, I refuse to let him go. Not just yet. I love the feel of his weight on me and his labored breathing on my neck. It feels too much like home.

And he doesn't try to fight me.

"Damn, Bean." Jasper chuckles, and places loving kisses all over my neck and lips.

"Was it good?" I smile when his cock, still deep inside me, twitches. "I'll take that as a yes."

Lifting up his head, he turns his wide, thrilled eyes to Edward. "What did I tell you?"

"You're right." Edward peels a piece of damp hair away from my forehead and looks so far deep into my soul that it makes me gasp aloud. "She's the one."


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope everyone's enjoying the story. I'm having a blast writing it. If you want to be a part of the fun and picture prompts for this story, come join my group on Facebook: KrazyK85 Fanfiction. Much, much love to all the readers and reviewers out there. You mean a lot to us. **

**Thanks to my prereader. She's amazing, and I suggest her to anyone who wants somebody honest and legit. I love ya, Brina.**

**A special thanks to my beta, MariahajilE. She's awesome and makes my words better. I can't express how grateful to have her editing **_**SoCal**_**. I'm very lucky to have such wonderful gals behind me.**

**Without further ado…**

**Chapter Twenty**

The moment my guys agreed to be with each other for me, I realized how underdeveloped and immature my feelings for them actually were. There was no real understanding or depth of what we were risking by being together. It wasn't just about sexual intimacy; it was more about being a part of a bond and love that my guys have shared for all their lives. I was a newcomer to a friendship. As an outsider, I should've felt disconnected or like I was intruding on them.

But that's not what happened.

They trusted me.

They wanted me to fill the hole that was missing.

_She's the one._

And that's when I fell down. The pain, the bleeding knees, and a breath you can't catch became an overwhelming feeling. No longer did I just know I was in love with them, but I _felt_ what it was like being in love with them.

All the bullshit worries and insecurities about things getting awkward between us evaporated.

It was the exact opposite, actually.

The last hurdle in our relationship that my guys didn't want to broach had brought us closer and solidified our trio. No more secrets or invisible barriers were holding us back. Things were clear and brought into focus.

Things felt and looked different now. The sun and moon were shining with a deeper, richer hue of gold and silver. The touches we shared were intense and stung on forever. Even the weed tasted better than I could've possibly imagined.

Being in love with an absolute certainty makes you feel invincible, like nothing bad can ever happen to you. It's equivalent to being drunk and foolishly playing with fire. There's no pain in your haze, but in the morning, it burns like hell.

The threat waiting for us back home was a wound we hadn't been sober long enough to feel, yet.

It's been eight days since we left Laguna. I haven't spoken a word to Mom or Dad. The lack of phone reception alleviated some of my guilt, but tomorrow's Christmas. Even if they're trying to ruin my life by separating me from my guys, they're still my parents and I still love them. It's hard not talking to them. Renee has her issues, but she does care about me in her own way. As for Charlie, he never got the chance to be a father to me. Things got so crazy so quick, and he was fighting against the unavoidable.

"Here." Jasper sits on the edge of the coffee table and holds his cell phone out to me.

He went into George Town about an hour ago and bought a few hundred international minutes. It's an expensive thing to do for me, but both my guys kept saying it wasn't a big deal.

_Yeah. Maybe not to them it isn't._

"Come on." He bumps his knee into mine as encouragement. "Call them."

It's his smile that convinces me.

"Okay." Taking it out of his hand, I swallow back my nerves as he explains to me how to dial. It's at least four to five more extra numbers than what I'm used to.

"It'll be okay," Jasper says for the zillionth time. I'm sure he'll keep on saying it until I believe him.

The line rings and rings for a long time, but on the last ring, right before it switches over to voicemail, someone picks up. The voice is raspy and familiar.

"Hello?"

I panic, and the phone slips out of my grasp. Jasper catches it and puts it back up to my ear, but all the things I wanted to say have disappeared. What sucks more than anything is that I haven't smoked today. I have to be the good Isabella for my parents, the responsible daughter they want to have. I need to prove to them that I'm not a screw up.

But all I want now is to be stoned out of my mind. It's easier.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She's irritated. I know that tone well. "Okay. I'm going to hang up now."

"No! Don't hang up!" I yell.

Edward rushes in from the back porch with a joint hanging from his lips. He's rigid and on high alert. Jasper senses the tension and joins me on the couch. He's still holding the phone for me, but he's also rubbing my back. This reminds me that my guys are here, that I'm protected and can be brave.

"It's me."

There's a sigh followed up with a chuckle. "Well, it's about time you decided to call your own mother."

"Yeah, I'm…" Honestly, I'm a little thrown off by how casual she sounds. She's not upset or even concerned. I have no idea if she's still in Laguna or Scottsdale. But just in case, I opt to tread lightly. "I've been busy."

That's an understatement.

"You were busy doing what, exactly, Isabella?" She clicks her tongue with disapproval.

I wish my answer could be all the things she wants to hear, but I'm not a ballerina or the valedictorian. I'm just me.

"Don't know. Just busy, I guess."

She groans, and I can see her massaging her temples to ward off a Bella headache. "You know, I sent you to your father's so you could learn something, maybe grow up there. God knows you weren't doing any of that here."

"I'm sorry," I say, because although Mom and I have our problems, I've never back-talked her.

She sighs again, but it's more like she's given in and resigned to what kind of daughter she has. "Are you going to school? Are you being good?"

I hum to these questions. No need to lie.

"I swear. You and your father are so much alike. Trying to get any information out of you is like trying to break into Fort Knox."

This conversation's all wrong. It's similar to how we always talk with each other, and without the haze of Jasper's weed, I'm quicker than usual.

I'm catching on to the little things, and it's becoming abundantly clear Charlie never called her. She's still in Arizona and oblivious to what's going on with me in California.

For all she knows, I'm still in school and surfing daily with Alice.

"So… You haven't spoken to Dad lately?"

"No," she says slowly. "Was I supposed to?"

That last confirmation drives it home, and this changes everything. No one's calling the police or taking me away from them. Well, at least not Renee. As for what Charlie has planned once we get back, that's mainly determined by his weed supply. Other than that, we're good.

My smile's wide and cheesy. It tells my guys everything they need to know.

For the first time in a long time, we all relax.

Edward goes back out to the porch to watch the sun set, and Jasper lets me take possession of the phone.

I laugh, too giddy to hold the happiness in. "God, Mom. It's really nice to hear your voice."

***()()***

The following days without a black cloud hanging over our heads are amazing. We do everything there is to do. Edward talks with a few locals and rents one of their speed boats. It's fast, not at all showy, but we take it and go out into the ocean as far as we can. Miles and miles away from everything and everyone, we're free of conventional bullshit. We sunbathe in the nude. We eat crab legs without napkins. We fuck on the deck.

One look at them is all it takes to get things rolling. I've never felt so full and yet so utterly famished at the same time.

It's like no other craving, and I can't get enough.

On Christmas, we exchange gifts and celebrate with Jasper's blueberry pancakes.

But shopping for these gifts wasn't an easy task.

A few days before Christmas, my guys took me into George Town one by one so we could shop for the other. It was difficult picking out gifts for them. Jasper was the biggest help in getting a present for Edward. He directed me toward a shop that sold all kinds of knives: Böker knives, switchblades, butterfly knives, boot knives, push knives, and daggers. The list was endless. I ended up getting him a black Benchmade steel folding knife. It's a 5000BK, and one of the best − or so the clerk tells me.

Of course, it absolutely fit my guy, and I made a little joke about how he could whittle his wood with it.

It landed on deaf ears and bombed.

I guess that's only a joke for Edward.

The watch I got him was something I've had in mind since Laguna. Every time we talked in the car after my days at school, I noticed he kept looking at his empty wrist, as if he were checking the time. There was a subtle but fading tan line where a watch used to be. I didn't ask, but I plotted. It overjoyed me to see him to continue to check the time on a watch he didn't have. Picking it out wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The Casio watch is a G-Shock, and it apparently has everything. I was more into it because it just looked like Edward. Maybe my instincts were wrong, but he would never tell me otherwise.

When it was time for my SEAL to accompany me into town, he was less helpful. He shrugged and seemed disinterested the entire time. I asked him what he'd gotten Jasper before as a gift, and you would've thought I'd been speaking to him in a foreign language. He didn't know. They've never exchanged gifts before. My guys have spent most of their holidays on separate continents for the last few years and only talked about chronic.

All in all, it was a frustrating outing, but by the end of our little excursion, we had a couple of presents for Jasper.

I was almost certain he'd like them.

When my guys opened their gifts on Christmas, I got mixed reactions. Edward glanced over at Jasper when he saw the knife. He knew he was behind that one, even though Jasper's eyes immediately pointed to me. He gave me all the credit. Then he opened the box with the watch. That got a response. My guy isn't much for words, but he smiled a little and thanked me with a kiss to my lips. It was sincere, but the pride in his eyes when he strapped the watch on his wrist was all the thanks I'll ever need.

Now when he looks down to check the time, he'll think of his Bean.

Jasper's the heart of this trio, and getting him something special seemed damn near impossible. I searched high and low in George Town for this particular item, but at the last store on the last hour of the day, I saw exactly what I was looking for.

He seemed genuinely surprised by the sterling silver, 10k gold Buddha pendant. I've never seen him that choked up before. The happiness for the gift shone bright through his eyes as he put it around his neck. It overwhelmed me to the point of tears. I didn't even care about what they'd gotten me at that point. I had them. All I wanted to do was to give them both something that showed them how much they fucking meant to me.

Even if I still didn't have the balls to tell them the L word out loud.

My guys worked together and showered me with gifts. They got me more maxi dresses and some eclectic jewelry. I liked the bangles the most. They knew they had to keep whatever they got me small enough to fit in my luggage for the plane trip back home, even if it was the biggest gift of all. The 15x10 inch canvas and variety of acrylic paints told me exactly what they wanted me to do. That faith in my talent was sweet but terrifying.

And of course, since they know me so well, as a bonus, I got a coupon for a one-time steal at any store of my choosing in Laguna.

Maybe they were kidding or maybe they weren't, but I was cashing it in as soon as we got home.

Tonight is New Year's Eve, and Jasper somehow got talked into attending a party at a restaurant in George Town called Latitude by one of the tourists. It's a huge thing, and everyone goes to it. There's great food, plenty of alcohol, and live music. Everything's half price until midnight, and there's a fireworks show over the ocean afterward. People who've been to it in previous years rave about it on their vacation blogs.

But what really sealed the deal was when I found out there was a raffle. They were going to give away various knick-knacks, cash prizes, and a free night's stay in one of their luxury hotels. It was my excitement for the event that got my guys excited to go. I'm very aware of the pull I have over them. It's like I'm the magnet in this relationship. They move in my direction without much thought, and every decision's based on my wants and needs.

Knowing one day it might lessen or go away completely, I don't take it for granted. My hope is that it doesn't. I hope I'll always be that one thing in my men's lives that connects them and drives them to be better, that one thing that remains a constant in spite of all the shit around them.

I want be their home.

"What are you going to paint first?" Edward pops off the cap to my longneck beer and hands it back.

I take a moment to let the cold liquid coat my throat before answering. "The night sky."

Jasper ducks his head and smiles. "Good choice."

"I booked our flights for the third," Edward says.

He's got his eyes on me. I'm getting better at reading his mind. That's his way of saying to get my ass in gear. We've only got two more days of the Bahamas' night sky.

"Did I ever say thank you for risking your lives to bring me here?" They're seated on each side of me. I put my hands over theirs. Edward's are hidden in his lap, but I could find him in a pitch-black room.

"We didn't risk anything." Edward always blows me off, along with telling me I'm overreacting, but since he kisses like he fucks, I'm always inclined to forgive him.

"We just needed to get out of Laguna," Jasper says, completely downplaying this entire trip.

They've been running this scam on me for the past week. I was willing to believe them, afraid to admit the truth of my selfishness, but now all that's done with and we can be honest.

"Bullshit! You guys kidnapped me, and you know it!" I say this a little too boisterously, and both my guys converge.

Edward's hand is over my mouth, and Jasper's is using his body to block me from eavesdropper's views. Their breaths are on my face and chest. It's a needy thing to be this familiar in public and to have their fingers sliding and drumming against the inner part of my thighs. My dress is being hiked up toward my waist as they move in closer. The only barrier between them and me falling apart is a thin piece of lacey fabric, which they keep hovering over. It's the faintest of touches, chaste in a way, but it's a risqué thing to do in the wide open. Our table isn't in the corner hidden away from people; it's smack-dab right in the middle.

I'm trying hard not to squirm.

"Yes, we broke the law," Edward says loud enough for me to hear but still low enough to be drowned out by the music. "And some would consider it..."

"Kidnapping," Jasper finishes with a smirk.

Edward's lips twitches, but he maintains his stern expression. "It wasn't a risk."

In my mind, I'm going over the definition of the word risk, which is to expose someone or something to danger, harm, or loss. What they did by taking me out of the country to hide me in paradise is the exact meaning of risk.

"The risk, Bean…" Jasper sighs and buries his face into my neck.

Edward keeps his eyes on me, flipping his hand over to brush his knuckles across the top of my panties, finishing Jasper's thought. "…would've been not kidnapping you."

There's nothing I can say to that. My guys made a choice, and they weren't going to apologize for it.

"Come here." I rest my hand on the back of Jasper's head and pull Edward onto my lips by his shirt.

He falls into our connection and lets me lead the kiss. It's slow and sensual. I savor every bit of him, but I'm lost. My perspective to the outside world fades away and dulls into a quiet buzz. The only thing I'm aware of is Jasper's hot breath tickling my skin and Edward's impatient mouth. He's grown tired of my pace and takes over, deepening the kiss and quickening it. The war within him is bursting out. He pushes into me and tugs at my hair, needing to dominate everything in order to feel something. My hips rock into Edward's hand, pleading with him to cross that last barrier, to fucking rub me, to quench the fire he created.

But the seconds continue to tick by into minutes, and he never dips inside. The faint throb turns into a raging ache. I cross my legs, trapping my guys' hands, and break away from Edward's influence. When I'm brought back to the world, I see our waiter's walking toward our table. It's a relief and a hassle, but my head's foggy and I need something to clear it up.

"I need a drink." Grabbing my beer, I chug and finish it off. But it's not enough. My eyes meet the waiter's. "Can I get another one of these, please?"

Edward groans and sits back in his chair. I keep him between my tightly clenched thighs. "We'll take some food, too."

"King crab legs," Jasper says, popping his head up away from my neck. "And an order of Cajun grouper."

I grin at him. He's definitely taking full advantage of the discount. "I'll have the gourmet beef burger."

The waiter turns to Edward. "And for you, sir?"

"Blackened mahi-mahi," he says, gathering all the menus. The waiter takes them, but before leaving, my guy orders another round of beers and oatmeal shots. "And keep 'em coming."

Jasper removes his hand from my thighs with ease and throws it around my shoulders. He leans over me and toward Edward. "Shots?"

"Only a couple," he replies with a mischievous, half-cocked grin. "Bean can handle it, can't you?"

I'm stupid and nod in response. The last thing I want to seem is inexperienced. My tolerance for liquor isn't the best. The beer I just downed a few seconds ago is already giving me a buzz. If food doesn't come before the shots, I might tip over into the smashed phase.

Jasper knows I'm a lightweight, and although he's curious to see me drunk, he doesn't want me to get so far gone that I'm not walking or remembering tonight. Endless puking and bad hangovers in the morning come to my mind, but he fears the worst for me: alcohol poisoning.

"Just try to pace yourself, all right?" He puts his hand on my cheek, his blue eyes pleading with mine.

I decide my memories with my guys are more important to me than getting wasted. There are plenty of nights in my future to do that and foolishly forget shit, but tonight isn't one of them. I want every second with them to count.

With my shy, almost bashful smile, my resolve's evident to Jasper.

He laces his fingers in my hair and brings his forehead to mine. "Thank you."

***()()***

The shots come and go. I keep my promise and only down one. It's delicious, and I can see how people can lose track and get bombed. It would have the same effect over me, but the food helps absorb some of it. Jasper does cut me off at my third beer. He actually doesn't really let me finish it. It was half-full when he swiped it from my hands. I didn't object, and Edward didn't say much, either, but you could see how annoyed he was with Jasper's mothering. Even though he sometimes agrees with Jasper's reasoning, he's still the bad influence over me and pushes my boundaries.

But I'm hard enough to handle sober, let alone drunk.

"No, you're not," Jasper says, rubbing the inner part of my knee with his thumb. "Stop saying that shit."

It's crazy how I can't decipher what's been said out loud or in my head. Maybe it's the weed. One of the locals passed by our table and recognized us. He had a few rolled 'cigarettes' on him and sold them at five dollars a pop. My guys couldn't resist partaking in the native herb.

"I'm not exactly low maintenance," I say, and that gets an immediate snort from Edward. I shoot him a look in question. "What's that mean?"

"You take very little effort to maintain," he says, never looking at me.

I stare at his profile, noting how he hasn't shaved in a while. He's all scruff these days, and it's prickly under my fingertips. It tickled the skin between my legs this morning. I loved the contrast of it to his tongue.

Jesus. My mind always wanders into the gutter with these boys. No prompting's needed.

"He's right." Jasper pinches the joint − soon to be a roach − in between his fingers and brings it to his lips. He inhales deep and keeps me completely enthralled with the mechanics of his mouth. He turns to me and blows the smoke out, engulfing me in its beautiful, hazy cloud. "All it takes to make you happy is weed and food."

"And sex." I grab each one of their thighs and squeeze. Mine. All mine.

"That's a given." Jasper's biting the end of the roach with his teeth and giving me his best shit-eating grin.

He's cute, and he knows it. Both of my guys are hyperaware of the draw they have over the people around them. They're the epitome of everything attractive: built bodies, handsome faces but still boyishly cute, and an undeniable charisma that just oozes out of them. It was a no-brainer for me to fall in love with them. That's why every girl in Laguna threw a tantrum when they found out I was dating the Cullen and Whitlock boys. They're prime crop. I plucked them both, and those bitches fucking hated me for it.

"You guys are everything to me and I−" I stop myself and look away from their eyes towards the live band. Random faces hold my gaze now. The words are at the tip of my tongue, and I want to tell them so bad, but I always change the subject to something much safer. "What are we going to do when we get home?"

Edward answers without missing a beat. "Throw a party."

"Really?"

Jasper shrugs. "It's necessary."

"Depleted funds?" I guess, and they both nod.

My guys will never tell me how much this trip cost them, but judging by their pained faces right now, it was more than they bargained for. It sucks. I feel guilty for putting them in this bind, but they won't accept my apology. All I can do is be the best damn girl for them, and that means doing everything I'd promised to do: get my GED, go to college, paint a picture, help them with their business, and just be the Bean they fell in love with.

"I'll make onion dip, then," I say.

My guys laugh. It's hearty, too. I'm confused about what I said that was so funny.

"Shit like that is what makes you a chill girlfriend." Jasper puffs on the joint and passes it over to me.

"Because I offered to make onion dip?" I inhale and cough. It's good stuff. Passing the last bit over to Edward, I can't help but emulate his infectious smile. "It's not rocket science to make. The directions are right on the back."

"No. It's not about the onion dip." Edward laughs again, and it's so nice to hear. Away from the stress of Laguna and the business, he's allowed himself to relax. "You're chill because there's no drama. It's just…"

"It's easy with you," Jasper says.

"Yeah," Edward replies, not saying much else. It's like he only has so many words to say in a day, and he's maxed out at the moment.

I shake my head. "I'd be easier if I didn't have Charlie for a father."

Maybe they hear the longing in my voice, but my guys react on instinct by getting closer and surrounding me. They create this shield and block me from the world. I imagine that looking at us from the outside, you'd only see Edward and Jasper leaning into each other and miss me completely.

"He's…" Jasper pauses, almost as if he's choosing his words carefully. "He's got more to lose by being our problem."

"What's that mean?" I ask.

"Your dad isn't just some pothead," Edward says.

"And we're not just his dealers," Jasper adds.

They see the questions in my eyes and answer me before I can even ask them.

"Charlie's going back to work in January," Edward starts.

"As a cop?"

"No." Edward clarifies. "DEA."

"He's going to be our eyes and ears with the business," Jasper says.

"And for his duty, he gets a reasonable cut."

"How much?" I ask.

"Fifteen percent," Jasper says.

I'm not sure how any of this works, but it's pretty clear that Dad's been lying to me this whole time.

God! He's such a hypocrite.

"If he's your informant or business partner or whatever he thinks he is, then why's he throwing such a fit about me seeing you guys?" My voice has raised an octave from my growing anger.

"Because." Jasper gives me a weak smile and smooths out the frown lines that are forming on my forehead with his thumb. "You're his only daughter, and he was protecting you."

I scoff and roll my eyes. "From you guys? Really?"

My men would die before letting anything bad happen to me. Dad's beliefs are misguided, judgmental, and fucking laughable.

"But he only sees it one way, Bean." Edward picks up his beer and tips it back. He chuckles a little. "You're a young girl, and we're two older men."

"We should know better," Jasper says. He gives me a shameful look, but it's fleeting. "It's wrong."

I don't want to hear anymore. The last thing I need is my guys rethinking everything because of my stupid age. We've already been through so much to throw it away on a technicality. But fear rises in my chest, and it's starting to weigh heavily.

"But it doesn't matter, right?" I glance and forth between them. They don't answer. That guilt's plaguing them both now. "Tell me it doesn't matter."

Jasper speaks softly. "Nobody will ever understand our relationship."

Edward bobs his head in agreement, but he says nothing. The same old tired conversation's rearing its ugly head again. I'd thought we were past this bullshit. We're in this together. Right or wrong, it's our cross to bear.

"But they don't have to!" I say, a hell of a lot calmer than I feel. "This is ours, Jasper, okay? Not theirs!" I put my hands on the back of their necks and pull them close to my face. "As long as you get that and Edward gets that, there's nothing anyone can say to us."

They both rest their foreheads against mine. It's quiet. The music dims. The world falls away. We breathe as one. Their hearts match my steady beat. I'm changed by them. It's too late to give them up. My father will rue the day he attempts to come between us.

"Let's get out of here," Edward says after a peaceful calm. He's pulling away, but I'm not strong enough to keep him.

"Yeah. That's a good idea," Jasper replies. He allows me to hold him for a bit longer. I can feel the light feathering of his eyelashes against my temple. He whispers, "We don't want to share you with anyone for the rest of the year."

***()()***

The beach is only a few yards away from the restaurant, but it's secluded and we get our much needed privacy. It's peaceful, the waves are softly rolling, and the cool water nips my toes. There's music floating out from the live band, but it's somber, faint, and not as loud or abrasive. The song "Amber" by 311 starts playing, and I want to groan at how cliché this whole scene is playing out for me. Even the guys laugh at the absurdity. But here we are in paradise, and it's hard not to fall into the ambience of it all.

Then I'm fighting a lost cause when Edward and Jasper pull me into them by my strappy belt and start to sway. I'm too obsessed by the heat of their bodies and the heady, sweet smell of their skin to even realize we're dancing. They hold me close, and rub their hands up and down my back. The weed used to numb my senses, but being with my guys counteracts that; everything with them is heightened. I get the tingle under my fingertips, my knees are weak, and my heart's tightening. It's happiness, I decide. It's bursting out of me in tears. I angle my face away from Jasper's bare shoulder and hide my cheek in the comfort of his shirt.

Maybe the fabric will sop up the dampness, and he won't feel them.

Edward hums the song, and that makes everything worse. This guy has come so far with me. He's been opening himself up and becoming softer. I know things will change once we get back to Laguna. It'll be business as usual, but he's already exposed himself, and I won't forget the way he's touched me, spoken to me, or holding me now − like I'm his buoy in a reckless sea or the lighthouse leading him to my shore.

Applause from the crowd signals the end of the song. Edward's watch beeps, and the guy announces ten minutes until midnight. They're going to do the raffle, but I don't care about that anymore.

"Come on." Jasper pulls away from me, gathers my hand, and nudges me to sit next to him on the sand.

Edward comes over on the other side of me and points toward the sea. "They're going to be shooting the fireworks from that boat."

"Close your eyes and lay back," Jasper instructs.

I smile because this is very familiar.

"Why?" Edward questions.

"It's a surprise," I say, grabbing his arm to tug him down.

He does without much resistance.

Jasper finds my hand in the dark and squeezes. "Remember that night?"

"Yeah," I say. Those damn traitorous tears are starting another round, but my eyes stay tightly closed. It helps to keep them at bay.

That near kiss will always be a regret of mine. I should've been more forward and told him how I felt. It's easy to judge now, but I'm still not taking my own advice.

"The universe is still just as big as it was before," Jasper says, his voice straining. Edward stirs next me, and I grasp his hand before the Buddha stuff gets to him and he pulls away. "But you brought in the light and narrowed the focus."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Edward grunts.

The moment ruined, Jasper sighs but then laughs, because what did he expect? "Just open your eyes."

You would think the sky, with its constellations, would remain the same no matter where you are in the world, but you'd be wrong. I'm taken back by what's laid out before me. It's different but no less awe-inspiring. Back home in Laguna, the sheer size of it overwhelmed me. Things with Jasper seemed too vast and unattainable. I felt hopeless, lost, and gobbled up by infinity.

But here in paradise, with the bustling life and glow of George Town, it's weakened the stars above, and only a few dots poke holes through the blackness. The impossible doesn't seem that far away anymore. I reach out to touch a sparkle, to prove my theory, and a firework bursts in the sky. Millions upon millions of red diamonds light up the beach and fall down.

I'm able to see my guys now, and they're staring at me, just waiting for the right moment. It's now. We all feel it. Jasper sits up first and is immediately followed up by Edward. One by one, they kiss me. It's gentle yet sweet, and it's hard enough to make me lose my breath. It permeates my lips. That ownership they have over me goes down to my bones and buries itself deep into my soul.

I stop thinking so much.

"I love you."

My guys glance up and look at each other for a beat of my heart. The purples and blues explode above their heads, giving them this unreal, dreamlike quality, but I'll never pinch myself to wake up.

Then Edward surprises me by leaning down and whispering against my lips. "We love you."


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Hey, my lovelies. I'm floating on a forever high for winning a couple of second place awards for this little ditty in the TwiFic Fandom Awards. I've coveted those banners for a long, long time, and I'm so happy I finally got one for Bean and her boys. Thank you to the peeps who nominated and voted for me. I'm truly honored to have you wonderful ladies reading me.**

**To my pre-reader, Brina: Thank you so much for sticking by my side, even though life is so busy and hectic and we rarely have a chance to talk. You've been an amazing friend and pre-reader. Love you, girl. **

**To my wonderful beta, MariahajilE: Thank you for being you. I'm extremely lucky to have you on this fic. I can't express how much. But let's just say this: you're a humid, pre-possessing homosapien with full-sized aortic pump. **

**Chapter Twenty-One**

News of Edward and Jasper's little get-together traveled fast. Every single surfer, stoner, coker, hipster, geek, and freak showed up to the house with a pocket full of cash and a case of beer as their offering. That's Tribal party rules. You bring the liquor and food, and my guys will give you a taste of their superb weed. And if you catch them just right, you might get several rounds of it — on the house, of course.

Well, you had to catch Jasper just right. He's the giver, and if it wasn't for Edward keeping our Buddha in line, I'm sure my pure soul and light would give away all his supply. Money only mattered to him, because he knew he needed it to live and to fund his greater plan of healing this earth. Edward was a different kind of rational and a ruthless businessman. He valued the money for its material qualities of buying bigger houses and faster cars.

But both guys, despite having different motives, agreed on one thing: to produce the best God damn Kush this town, or anywhere in America, has ever smoked.

"Where'd you come from?" A wiry girl with spiky green hair is on her last puff of the complimentary weed and feeling talkative. "You don't look like family."

I'm alone for the first time since the party started nearly an hour ago. Edward vanished as soon as the initial wave of people came in to go deal. Jasper stayed by my side and centrifuged all the bullshit that came our way. I refrained from the weed to keep sober and help out, but the house was packed and oozing onto the beach with nearly a hundred bodies. It's not something I can realistically contain. Jasper was my sanity; he held my hand the entire time and shouldered some of the hostess' duties.

Things were going smoothly and I was starting to relax, until some guy pulled him away from me.

"One minute, Bean, all right?" He'd told me as his fingers slowly slipped from my grasp. "One minute…"

That was seven minutes ago, and since then, everything and everyone descended upon me like piranhas. It was like they were waiting for their moment to attack and pick me clean of my skin; a bunch of vultures they were. And so, I stood there and endured the abuse as they prodded and pushed and groped and asked the same damn questions over and over again.

Who was I? Where did I come from? How do I know the Cullen and Whitlock boys? And finally, did I have any weed on me?

It's amazing how no one remembers my face from the beaches where we all surfed or even the school we all attended together. I was a blip on their radar until tonight. Maybe potheads were more aware when their perception of time slowed down, but I was in their sights now, and they were suspicious of me.

I smile politely at her, but move along and attempt to avoid the next questioning bystander.

The last time I told someone who I was ended up being colossal mess, and their rude comments was not something I want to relive.

Apparently, Alice's words of hate and lies spread like her brand of VD.

Besides, my voice is nearly gone from screaming over the loud music, and I'm not wasting what's left of it on her.

I need a drink of water. That'll help with the itchy throat and serve as a chance to get away. As I make my way through the glaring crowd and toward the kitchen, I spot Edward. It seems like ages since I've seen him. Beautifully stunning and rough as ever, he's got his eyes on the party and his head in the game. A motionless, massive figure among the swaying haze of people, he's got a spotlight on him and sticks out like a sore thumb.

Or maybe it's just me and it's my perspective that's slowed the crowd down enough to see him through the throngs of chaos.

My feet are moving now in a hurry and directing me toward his light. This need for him is a strong attraction, like he has this magnetic pull over me, but it's natural and as involuntary as breathing.

Flattening myself against the wall to avoid grabby hands and bumping into strangers, I slide past them and go unnoticed. It's a relief, but I pay close attention and catch the gist of what they're talking about.

Stoners are thinkers, and some are even conspiracy theorists. They go into deep discussions about the government and the Illuminati and the psychotropic effects of ice cream.

It's so strange to be the clear one. You feel displaced or lost in a conversation that started years ago. Trying to understand is exhausting and giving me a headache.

"Hey! Betty!" A stereotypical surfer dude with glazed eyes and shaggy blond hair jumps out of nowhere and corners me in the hallway. He's holding a blunt, but his proximity makes me uncomfortable. "You hafta try this."

I shake my head but internally argue with myself. The cherry glows, and the smoke curls around me, its aroma so enticing. My love for Jasper and for his amazing weed becomes too overwhelming and too impossible for me to abstain from.

And so I give up.

Snagging the blunt from his fingers, I inhale deep. He smiles and rests his hand on the wall above me. I see it in his eyes; he's thinking we've connected on a level more than strangers.

"Thanks," I say and leave him there, taking his freebie with me.

Edward hasn't moved from his post and doesn't turn in my direction when I enter the kitchen, but he knows I'm there. Whether he'll ever admit to it or not, he's affected by me. There's a slight shift in how he breathes — faster and shallower — and if I was to put my ear to his chest, I would hear his heart thump louder in a frantic pace.

It's all there for me to see.

Then again, he's a SEAL, and noticing shit without having to look is what he does best.

"Hey, you," he says, still not looking at me. "Are you enjoying the party?"

I shrug. "Yeah. For the most part, I guess."

"For the most part, huh?" He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles a little. "Tired of playing hostess?"

"You can say that," I say, and it takes me two seconds to ditch the finished joint in the sink and hop on the counter in front of him. Fingers hooked in the loop of his jeans, I tug him into me. He doesn't move an inch by my urging, but he eventually sees I'm not giving up and moves on his own to position himself between my legs. I smile at him. "I missed you."

"Where's Jasper?" He's frowning and wildly searching the house. "He was supposed to stay with you."

I ignore his question and throw my arms around his neck. He's got his hands resting on my waist, but it's not an intimate or loving gesture; it's his way of keeping me at a distance. We're back in Laguna now, and there are rules that must be followed. All of our public displays of affection were to be left in the Bahamas.

But I don't listen — never have, never will.

"Do you remember the last time you had me on this counter?" My nose is skimming his neck and moving up to his ear. "I do."

If anything, I just want him to let his guard down and fuck me right here. He doesn't have to fully undress. A simple unzip of his zipper and a sliding of my thongs to one side, and we're golden.

"Bean," Edward says. He means it as a warning, but I don't believe him. He's squeezing and pulling me further into him, letting me know he wants the same. If I was to reach down, I bet he'd be hard, but he's on duty. That squeeze and pull become a firm push in the opposite direction. He grabs my chin and forces my gaze on him. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in contempt, he repeats his question. "Where's Jasper?"

"Why so serious?" I scoot closer and grip the back collar of his shirt. My mouth's just inches away from his now. "Kiss me. No one's watching."

He groans and rests his forehead on mine. "You smoked the strong strain, didn't you?"

"If you won't fuck me…" I begin, purely out of exasperation. It gets his attention, and he snaps his head back. "You should at least kiss me."

He's stepping out of our bubble and looking away in an effort to ignore my plea. I've got a grip on his shirt, and he can pretend he's in control, but we both know who owns who. Maybe I'm high on the strong strain of Kush, but I'm bound and determined to taste him.

"Edward, stop being an asshole," I grab him by the neck and use all my strength to jerk him to my lips. "Kiss me!"

He's not impressed. He grabs my wrists and squeezes them hard before pushing my hands down into my lap. Edward immobilizes me without even trying. I think that's the end of it, but he flicks his gaze back to my lips and attacks. I'm pushed against the cabinets and crushed under his weight, unable to move or think, just there to be on the receiving end of his tongue.

God, he tastes good. A little bit of mint and a touch of weed mixed together drive me crazy and propel my need for him. I try to deepen our kiss and hold him closer, but his grip on me only tightens and keeps me still. He's strong, forceful, and less gentle, more severe, as our mouths move together. I can't keep up, nor can I breathe. That awful pain in my chest continues to build as my head gets less oxygen and my eyes lose their focus.

If I valued my life over his kiss, I might put up a bigger fight.

"Christ!" Edward breaks the kiss and drops his head to my shoulder. "We can't do this here."

These words are spoken to me, but he's talking to himself. The war between right and wrong is a constant battle in his head when it comes to our relationship. He wants to do right and keep me safe from judgment from the tribe, to be everything Jasper is — the good son — but he's too drawn to the wrong.

Me.

I'm a taboo.

Edward's a selfish guy through and through, and he'll always succumb to his body's demand to be inside me.

My hand reaches down and feels how obvious my theory is.

"Bean." He hisses out a few curse words and swivels his hips away from me. "Stop."

I'm stunned into silence, and my heart skips a beat as his dark, harsh green eyes penetrate me. He's done playing, and the game's over.

"Fine," I say.

Edward steps back from me and notices my dress has been hiked up to my waist. He delicately takes the fabric between his fingers and pulls it down. I'm gripping the edge of the counter, breathing hard through my nose and trying not to move. I don't want him to know how the innocent skim of his knuckles against my skin is my undoing.

"There," he says, seemingly calmer and more in control. I even get a gentle hand on my cheek and an apologetic smile. "You okay?"

I nod.

He nods and pats his pockets, most likely looking for the blunt he rolled earlier. I'm smiling because he's cute. My guys know me well. For me, smoking only comes after sex and breathing.

This is how Edward makes amends.

"Here, baby," he says, putting the joint to my lips. He's shaking his lighter and trying to get it aflame when someone walks into the kitchen. This brings back his initial wave of anger. "Where in the hell were you?"

Jasper's frozen in the doorway, and there's this frantic worry etched in his furrowed brows. By the looks of the sweat dripping down his face and neck, he's clearly been running around. I watch as he flounders with indecision. It's my smile that pulls him in.

"I was with Riley," he says.

"You left our girl alone for that asshole?"

"He wanted to introduce me to a friend of his who's a banker."

"What the fuck do we need a banker for?"

"We don't, but this dude's a genius when it comes to laundering money." Jasper is stopped abruptly by Edward's glare, and the discussion goes no further. He sighs, smoothing his hands over the wispy hairs on his forehead and pushes them back into the tight braid of his dreads. "It was only going to be for a minute, and I was keeping an eye on her the whole time. Then she disappeared. I fucking panicked. I'm been looking for her for the past five minutes. I'm sorry."

Edward doesn't want to hear it, turning his gaze back to me and lighting my joint. "I told you to stay with her."

"I screwed up. It won't happen again." Jasper's regret meets my endless understanding, and he rushes over to kiss me. It's soft wanting and over too soon, but it means everything to my aching heart. He stares into my eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Totally," I say, and I really am, but when I turn around, I see thirty to forty pairs of eyes watching our interactions with such scrutiny.

_Jesus. How long have they been staring_?

Edward knows how people think and how they operate. That makes them threats. Jasper wants to believe they're good hearted, curious if anything, but have no ill will if you treat them like friends. That's why he doesn't see people as cruel or vile.

I'm in between them both, physically and spiritually. My beliefs are constantly teetering.

"How about we get some air?" Jasper asks me, holding out his hand.

I take him up on his offer without thinking twice.

Edward helps me off the counter and resumes his earlier stance. "I'm going to hang out here."

"All right," Jasper says, holding out his fist. "Are we good?"

Edward doesn't bump his fist with Jasper's until he gets a confirmation — which, from my point of view, is a stern and intense silent agreement — from him to keep me close. When he's sure their precious cargo's going to be taken care of, their knuckles meet. "We're good."

***00***

It's late into the evening, and things have settled down. There are only about ten stragglers hanging outside by the bonfire with Jasper and me. My toes are wedged in the sand, and rolling waves are behind me. There's plenty of weed, a few cases of beer, and marshmallows with gram crackers to satiate our munchies. Jasper even pulled his Bronco out onto the beach and faced it towards the ocean. There's music coming out from the speakers, making everything come together.

It's a chill atmosphere and more my speed.

Edward stays inside and maintains his guard. He's dealing and monitoring who comes in and out of his house. Even though the majority of Laguna was told about this party, there are only a few who were actually invited and welcomed in by my guys.

Jasper's kept his word and has me tightly tucked into his side. I'm a permanent fixture under his arm, and his lips are never far away. The curious onlookers don't bother him. He does things to make them talk. What bugs these people the most isn't the fact that Jasper's with me; it's the fact he shares his weed with only me. Everyone else has to buy their own or use the rest of their freebies.

And this isn't the type of Kush you want to waste.

The particular strain that's being smoked around this fire is Jasper's latest growth and creation.

It's called Skywalker Blue.

This stuff's a smooth and sweet blend that goes down effortlessly. One inhale will choke ya' or toke ya'. Either way, you're fucking high. It's a fan favorite, but I know what Jasper's capable of, and this town's definitely not prepared for what's coming.

The best part about setting blaze to Skywalker is the conversations. Jasper leads it, mostly because he's a head tribe member and everyone believes he's got something profound to say. I'm a huge groupie and there, like the rest of his fans. There's no topic too touchy for him to broach, but his favorite's religion. He's Jewish, originally by birth, but he's toyed around with Christianity and Catholicism, even becoming a Mormon for a day. It wasn't until he took a pre-college trip to Thailand with his parents that he discovered his true calling: Zen Buddhism.

Religion to him now is a pleasant dream. The true wisdom comes when you accept you know nothing.

"So, if we were to talk about God and what makes us good or evil, would you know what that is?" My guy sucks in deep, and the blunt burns to his fingertips. He holds the smoke in and doesn't cough. What a showoff. He passes it over to me to kill and continues on with his attentive audience. "Let's say, for instance, you go to church on Sundays and donate a hundred dollars in the collection plate. Does that make you good?" Everyone's nodding in agreement, but I know where he's going with this, and that's not what he wants. "Maybe it does, but taking it to another level, imagine yourself leaving that same church on that same Sunday and going across the street to rob a convenience store. Does that make you evil?"

People are wavering between nodding and shaking their head.

But Jasper's trying to break them out of the habit of seeing good and evil as separate entities; they're one and the same.

"You can't cancel out an evil deed by doing something good," Jasper says. "It's all pluses and minuses. The math doesn't add up."

"But can you cancel out good by doing something evil?" a guy to my right asks.

That's Riley. He's a friend Edward and Jasper knew from school. This guy's a late bloomer. All God and good grades since kindergarten, but around seventeen, he got cancer and sought out Jasper to curb the pain and increase his appetite. It did more than that. It cured his soul. God disappeared, and the cancer soon followed. He's been in remission for three years.

"Yes," Jasper says. He holds me closer to keep me from running. I'm well aware how being with me is the evil he's talking about and how he tries so hard on a daily basis to cancel some of that out by being a humanitarian. But all the help he's given people or any amount of good he's done shouldn't be wiped out by loving me. "It's something in us we all live with and a thin line we all balance on."

I speak up. "That's not what Buddha believes."

Jasper smiles and maintains a steady gaze with me. The blues of his eyes reflect the sparks from the crackling fire. The orange glow lights up the side of his face and highlights every curve and line.

He's perfect and beautiful and mine.

"What does Buddha say?" Riley asks. He leans in close, anxious to absorb my every word.

"Humans are capable of good and evil, but it's all subjective. It means something different to every person. Just because you see something as evil or bad, does that mean everyone agrees? If you're not hurting anyone, only following a law or rules made up by some man, does that mean he's right and you should continue to punish yourself for it?"

Riley's confused by my outburst, but the one and only person I'm talking to gets it completely.

"There's nothing wrong with repenting," Jasper says. He slides his hand underneath the flannel blanket we have over us and rests his hand on my thigh.

"But repenting for that sin and continuing to commit it is just stupid," I say.

All my frustrations about the tribe not accepting me, my age continuing to be a hindrance, and Edward's refusal to ever let his guard down are finally reaching a boiling point.

"You're right, but you've got me all wrong, Bean." This is the first time he uses my name in front of everyone. It's an intimate gesture. He's telling the world I belong to him. "I've never fucking repented you."

***00***

The bonfire that roared and blazed an hour ago is nothing more than a pile of blackened wood and a billowing ghost of gray smoke. Everyone's passed out on the beach somewhere or gone home. My high's waning; it's just a dim buzz and a persistent yawn now.

I'm sitting on the tailgate of Jasper's Bronco, listening to his music and staring up at our stars. It's too bright to see anything beyond the Big Dipper. I had to strain my eyes to even see that recognizable constellation. But despite the sky being as blank as one of my canvases, it still manages to take my breath away.

It's just another lasting, intimate connection I have with my guy.

There's a soft knock on the side of the truck.

I turn to the cause of the noise and smile. "Speaking of the devil…"

"Hey there, my beautiful lotus." Jasper sits and takes my hand. He flips it over and traces his finger across my palm.

It confuses me to what he's doing, unable to make out the design with my mind's eye. It's only clear after he's done and shows me the drawing of a flower in glow-in-the-dark ink. It's smudged and fading in some places, but it's unmistakable.

"Where'd you get that?"

"It's from a glow stick. Some stoner broke one off on Edward's coffee table. I borrowed what was left."

"And is that a… flower?"

It's no longer as distinguishable and is quickly slipping away.

"As a lotus flower's born in water, grows in water, and rises out of water to stand above it unsoiled, so I, born in the world, raised in the world having overcome the world…"

"…Live unsoiled by the world," I say and finish with him in unison.

"Buddha," he says.

"I know."

Running his fingers down the sides of my face, he's got the most gentle and persuasive touch. It's a subtle burn on my skin, a tingle and a spark, not an out of control inferno, where it's too dangerous to be near. There's warmth in Jasper, and it spreads through me.

"This is my last night here," he says, and the ache of missing him is all I can feel now.

"I know that, too." Everything I am craves to be close to him, and distance is a constant problem. I try to quench it by burying my face in his neck and breathing him in as much as I can. "How long will you be gone?"

"A few months." He sweeps my hair away from my shoulder and kisses me there. "Maybe longer."

"I remember when missing you wasn't this painful."

The idea of not being with him after weeks of seeing him every morning when I wake up and every night as I go to bed is terrifying. It's like my windpipe's being ripped from me and I'm gasping for air, slowly dying.

"It's going to be fine, my beautiful lotus. You'll see." But the agony in his voice tells me this separation's going to kill him, too. "We'll Skype and text. Berkeley isn't that far away."

I grip him tighter and don't look up. "It's going to always be like this with you, isn't it?"

"Like what?"

"Always leaving me to cure the world," I say, but I immediately bite my lip to shut myself up.

The last thing he needs to feel is guilty for wanting to help people. Jesus. How selfish can I be?

As his silence lengthens, I know he's beating himself up for causing me pain.

I lift my head to look at him, and if I thought the darkness would hide what I didn't want to see, I was sorely mistaken. The moon takes no mercy on me and crudely shows me in its pale light how horrible of a girlfriend I am. The regret and indecision about his choices and his place in this world are clearly displayed on his face. It hurts me to see him second-guess himself.

But I don't say a damn thing to fix it. I let that seed of doubt fester in him in hopes he'll change his mind and stay with me.

"You complicate things," he says in a whisper.

That heavy, all-consuming emotion's lodged in his throat. I know, because I have it, too.

"I don't mean to," I whisper back.

"I know you don't." He sighs and wraps both of his arms around me before he starts a gentle rocking. "Do you know what I was doing the day before we met?"

"Smoking a bowl?"

He laughs. "No, but you're close. I was packing for Cambodia."

"You were going to Cambodia?" The words don't make sense. He was with me until the day he left for Berkeley. "When?"

"Two weeks before classes started up again. My parents contacted my uncle who volunteers with Doctors Without Borders. They told him about my interest in humanitarian work, and he invited me over there to gain some experience," he says and shrugs. "Anyway, I was leaving that night you and your dad came over. He was supposed to be my last deal."

The entire interaction he had with me outside on the balcony means something more now. He'd made plans with me while his life was happening somewhere else.

"Why didn't you go?"

I pray he tells me his flight got cancelled or his uncle changed his mind about him coming over there. Both, I know, are unlikely. It's the truth that's going to kill me.

"Because you showed up on my doorstep."

I'm shaking my head, refusing the honesty behind his words and denying how happy it makes me feel. This smile on my lips and tears on my cheeks are telling of my every stupid, self-absorbed thought.

"You should've gone," I lie. My fingers clutch his pants, instinctively giving in to my dependency to keep him with me.

"I knew the choice I was making." Jasper stops the rocking and pulls away, but I avoid his gaze. He cradles my face in his hands and tilts my head up. "I don't regret it."

"Jasper, of course you don't, not now," I say, groaning as I imagine some years down the road when our romance is stagnant and he realizes how much I've held him back. "But you will. Cambodia was your opportunity to do what you love."

"There will be more Cambodias for me." He's on the verge of shaking me senseless, so desperate for me to see him. "You were the opportunity I couldn't pass up."

And I do see him, more than ever.

The truth is he'll stay with me if I allow it, but separation with him is necessary. He's meant to do something more with his life than sit around Laguna dealing Kush. The world's going to be better because of him. I have to let him go and stop being so selfish.

"Bean..." Jasper rubs my cheeks with his thumbs to pull me out of my head.

I smile weakly.

"Talk to me."

_Tomorrow_, I decide.

Tomorrow, the world can have him, but tonight? He's still mine.

"I don't want to talk anymore." I close the distance and kiss him.

Jasper responds by letting his hands go into my hair and getting lost in the mess. He falls into me effortlessly, like a sigh. It's meant to be gentle and sweet, like him, but the feel of his lips on mine, soft and tasting of my cherry ChapStick, ignites a fire in me.

A slow burn at first, I rise to my knees and climb into his lap. Jasper stabilizes us both by resting his hands on my hips. Our mouths never stop moving together. My body molds into him, and my dress inches higher and higher until it's a wad around my waist. Rolling my hips to the beat of our music, he grabs my ass and whimpers as he encounters bare skin.

That sound of his need and desperation is what throws me into a craze. The slow burn becomes a raging inferno. I rock and grind my pussy onto him. My teeth sink into his bottom lip, and I suck on it. Jasper moans from the pain, but he further pushes me over the edge by bucking his hips up and pulling me down on his hard cock. Every inch of him is felt and practically bursting through the thin fabric of his Khaki shorts.

My hunger to have him inside me is a compulsion, an insatiable need, and I'm salivating. It overrides every thought and moral; even romance gets tossed aside.

No longer his sweet Bean or delicate lotus, I'm a savage.

Impatient to fuck him now, my body crashes into him with force and slams him back into the side cab of his Bronco. He grunts from the wind being knocked out of him, but I don't care or even see that. My only concern is to get him undressed and inside me.

Keeping him pinned to the floor by straddling him, I rip open his Hawaiian shirt. Buttons fly everywhere, and I drag my nails across his chest. He's so beautiful, so perfectly tan and smooth. My mouth collides back with his but only for a second; it's just long enough to leave the taste of me on his tongue. He tries to kiss me back, but I'm too quick, too needy, and sit up before he can hold me there.

I unclasp his shorts and pull him out. He's harder now, twitching and dripping. I jerk him roughly. He groans, but sits up with a start and grabs my shoulders. I'm being flipped onto my back. Jasper's on top of me and has his hands fisted in my hair. I'm panting, trying to get back to his mouth, but he pulls away.

"Baby, baby…" He's out of breath as his forehead falls to mine. "Slow down."

I've been so blinded by my need to keep him for myself and away from the world that I'd forgotten to savor him. This is our last night before he goes back to college for months and months. Who knows when we'll be together like this again? My head clears, and I see what's in front of me and take in a big gasp of air. It's the settling of the fire, which still burns, but it's not out of control and unstoppable. It's the glowing embers that keep you warm at night.

"Okay." I flick my gaze up at him and see him watching my face.

The purest blue in Laguna, they show his heart and soul. He smiles, gripping my hair tighter and pulling my head up to his mouth. This kiss is tender and quieter in its passion, but it emulates just the same. He pecks my lips, my nose, and moves back to my lips again. The way he makes me feel like the only girl in the world is terrifying and breathtaking all at once. I'm moving my hands up to his shoulders, and I push his shirt down his arms. He shrugs it off, and it gets tossed to the side. The Buddha pendant's hanging from his neck and tickles my chest every time he leans in to kiss me.

It's the one thing he never takes off.

Jasper takes his time with me. I'm holding back, letting him lead and trying with all my might not to rush him, but my body aches to be touched. I clench my thighs around him, feeling him brush against the top of my thong with the slightest movements. He's on my neck, kissing and occasionally sucking on the skin. He doesn't linger long enough to cause a reddening or deep purple blemish. My guy isn't the type to mark his girl. I know it's in him, but it doesn't make me stop craving it.

Jasper brings his lips back up to mine, kissing deeper this time. That fire so easily started by him is burning brighter. My leg hikes up and wraps around his waist, pulling him down and into me. He laughs and shakes his head at my insistence.

Yeah, I know. So impatient, but all I want is him.

Sitting up and leaning back on his heels, he lifts my dress up and over my head. It joins the pile with his shirt. He puts his lips to my stomach and kisses me there. My head moves to watch him, but he's gone and moved on to my thong. Hooking his fingers around the straps, he pulls it down my legs and pockets it. I don't say a word about his theft; he doesn't give me time, distracting me by putting his mouth on my nipple.

He licks the aroused peak, gently pulling it between his teeth and sucking on it. I'm lost as my eyes roll back. This is one of the most sensitive spots on my body. The wind makes them hard, and they ache. He knows this and uses it to his advantage. I'm moaning and getting wetter with every roll of his tongue.

My hands are on his head, pushing him down as my back arches and shoving my chest into his face. My fingers clench and dig into his braids, and for the first time, I'm irritated by his choice of hairstyle. I can't curl my fingers in his hair to pull on it. He looks good with the dreads, but I wonder what his hair looks like naturally.

Jasper moves to my other breast, but his mouth doesn't linger. He's paying attention to my body and starts to travel south. I'm breathing heavily, unable to hide how much I want him to taste me. He places his hands on my thighs and parts them.

Scooting down so low in the Bronco that his legs dangle off the back, Jasper poises himself just right. I can feel his breath on me. Sitting up and resting my weight on my elbows, I stare down and watch his every move. He gets in closer. My stomach tightens. I'm anticipating it. Closing his eyes and breathing me deep, he leans in… real slow… and licks me.

I fling myself back and sigh.

_Finally._

Jasper's tongue is languid but unyielding. He tastes every inch of me. Lapping and sucking, he's not trying to make me come, but he knows damn well he can. I'm biting the inside of my cheek and holding in my moans. The house is only a few paces away, and I don't want anyone hearing us and coming out to investigate.

My guy will stop if there's a crowd.

But all that goes out the window when he presses his finger to my clit and rubs gently. I'm shaking as my moans crash with the waves and roll out into the sea. I'm on the verge, feeling it build and build, the pleasure encompassing me.

"Baby..."

Jasper groans, grasping my hips and pulling me closer, deeply thrusting his tongue into my pussy. He's not easing me into it anymore. My pleasure's finally broken through his self-possessed façade, and he's now burning like me. He's ravenous, fucking me with his mouth and fingers. I'm lost in all he's giving me. He doesn't stop or come up to breathe. Every buck of my hips, quiver of my thighs, and moan from my lips gets him more fervent and eager.

I pull at my hair and scream out his name.

Every muscle in my body goes tense. My legs clamp close and trap Jasper. He continues to suck on my clit as I come all over his tongue and fingers. The ripple of the waves is slowly receding and allowing me to see above water again.

I go limp and try to catch my breath.

Jasper's kissing me softly, gently and lazily running his fingers between my lips. They're tingling and sensitive to his touch. He laughs when my hands cover his to make him stop.

"Give it a minute," I say, because in all truthfulness, I don't want him to stop. Ever.

Jasper nods and moves up my body with his mouth, kissing every inch of my skin until he reaches my lips. The taste of me on his lips is like a drug. It shouldn't turn me on, but it does. I'm back to wanting him in a way that makes me impatient again. This time, he's on the same page with me. We both push down his shorts and boxers. He positions himself between my legs and grabs his cock, rubbing the head up and down my pussy. It glistens with wetness from my arousal and his mouth.

"Fuck," he says to himself and leans forward.

He rests his weight on one hand and lines up to me with the other. I shift my hips down, not needing to look, but knowing where his cock is and seeking it out. Both our eyes meet and widen as he pushes into me. Neither of us moves, enjoying the feel of our heat radiating off each other.

Jasper touches my face, then my lips. His thumb caresses and rolls over the bottom lip. He tells me it's my pout that made him fall in love with me. I see it in his eyes now. There's not a look of fucking his girl or urgency to get on and get off.

No. He wants to be as close to me as humanly possible.

And in this moment, with his hips pushed, our pelvises flushed, and him fully inside of me, we're as close as we'll ever be.

Then as I look into his eyes and see the yearning there, I get why he wants to slow down our kisses and not rush through his touches. He doesn't want tomorrow. If he prolongs every minute tonight, maybe the sun won't rise and we can stay hidden in the moon's pale grace.

He's doesn't want to leave me.

"I know." I hold his face in my hands and pull him down to my lips.

He kisses me, but it's different somehow, like he's letting go. Maybe he just needed me to understand, but once he hears those words, the weight he's been carrying is lifted off his shoulders.

He relaxes into me.

Time ticks forward again.

And we begin.

Jasper resettles his weight and sits up, grabbing the bottom of my knee and lifting my leg up. Putting his hand on the side of neck, he pulls out slowly. I'm holding his wrists to keep him there, to watch his face and how intent he is, and when he moves into me just… slowly, the bliss overwhelms him. He moves effortlessly like he's a reggae song; nice and smooth. He curls and weaves through me like smoke. It's a swaying of his hips, a mellow rocking, and I'm feeling every pull and push as he slides in and out.

Not once does he take his eyes off me.

Jasper pulls me up with him and settles me into his lap. He's got a better angle, gripping me with more force, thrusting faster and harder into me. I throw my arms around his neck and hold him tight. There's a tension growing, a spot he's reaching. It stops everything around me. I'm rolling my hips with him, our bodies syncing so easily as one.

He kisses me. I whimper into his mouth. That makes him want to go at me harder. I'm barely hanging on to him now. My eyes close. I'm blind to the world but feel every part of Jasper — the way his lips skim my neck, kissing me there, or even how he grabs me and digs his fingers into my back as he succumbs to his own release.

My guy isn't quiet. No. He's as loud as me, mimicking my moans. He curses a 'fuck' here and a 'damn it' there. That mouth of his does things to me. To hear him this way, knowing I'm the girl who's making him feel this way… I'm the girl who's riding his cock and driving him to the point of coming. Jasper chose me. I'm the only girl he wants to be in over and over again.

I cry out his name and come again.

"Fuck! Oh, God, baby," Jasper says, and I know he feels me. That's what does it for him.

Flinging me back to the floor of the Bronco, he attacks my mouth. There's no patience in him. That's gone. What's left is a man thrusting faster and deeper into his girl, wanting to bang her silly. And I encourage it by scratching the sides of his body and biting his chest or arms or any part of him that comes into contact with me. I need him to come and to feel good. My eyes light up with joy when he lets himself go. I feel a jerk and a twitch. He grunts out my name and releases everything into me. His whole body collapses, and he buries his face into my neck.

There's a moment where I hear only our breathing and the crashing waves outside. It's too somber and has a feeling of finality to it, even though I know that's crazy. That's fear overriding what's real.

I just need to see him.

"Jasper," I turn my head and whisper into his ear. "Please look at me."

He lifts his head up and takes my breath away with those amazing blue eyes. I'm too stunned to talk. My silence worries him.

"What is it?" He glances down and notices all of his weight is still on top of me. "Shit! I'm sorry."

He tries to get up, but I grab him by the neck and pull him back down. "No. It's fine. I promise. I'm okay."

"Baby," he says, not believing me, but also not willing to fight about it. "Tell me what you want."

"I just want you to stay here with me."

"Okay."

And when he moves to lie beside me, I panic about what happens after I fall asleep and quickly amend my terms. "That means all night."

He smiles, kissing me gently and lovingly, like it's my first and last time. "Yes, my beautiful lotus. All night."

***00***

A jingle and vibration wake me up. It takes me a second or two for me to realize what it is. My eyes lazily open but only halfway. It's morning. The sun's coming up over the horizon and sets the sky a bright orange. I'm not sure how early it is, but a ringing phone doesn't care about my sleep. I'm feeling blindly around me and Jasper. The intrusion's coming from his shorts. I hurl myself over his chest. He grunts from my weight and smacks my ass.

"Bean, come on."

"I'm sorry, but your stupid phone won't shut up," I say, barely catching the loop with the tip of my finger and dragging it over to me.

The vibration and jingle get stronger and louder.

"Ignore it," he says, turning over toward me and throwing his arm over my waist.

"It might be Edward," I tell him. He doesn't argue, just nods and snuggles in closer to me. Searching through every pocket, I finally find it. Without even looking, I answer it. "Hello?"

There's a pause for less than a second. "_Is this Jasper's phone?_"

The woman's voice on the other line throws me but also makes me act territorial. "Yeah, it is. Who's this?"

"_This is his mother. Who's this_?"

I pull the phone away from my ear and look down at the caller ID. The seconds tick by as the call from 'The Rents' rolls over to a minute. My heart pounds as my throat closes shut. I feel like throwing the phone out, but I shake Jasper instead.

He opens one eye and peeks up at me. "Who is it?"

"Your mom," I whisper and drop the phone. I'm backed up to the side of the Bronco with my knees to my chest. "She wants to talk to you."

"Jesus." He groans and sits up. Picking up the phone, he takes a deep breath and forces a smile, like she can freaking see that shit.

_What if she can?_

My eyes widen, and I look around wildly, searching for her in the sand and surrounding houses.

"Hey, mom. Yeah. No. I'm in town," he says, glancing over and seeing me in full freak out mode. My guy knows me well and places a calming hand on my foot. "That's Bella. My girlfriend."

He doesn't flinch or cringe at the title. It flows out of his mouth like he's been calling me that forever. It shocks me into a frozen silence, but I can't take my eyes off of him, of how he gestures or talks. The conversation between them is all superficial on the surface, yet I can't help wonder what she's like. She seemed nice enough and not at all annoyed with me when I was rude to her. I can't imagine a woman who raised a kid like Jasper, with all his heart and kindness, not having a little bit of that herself.

"What time is it?" Jasper asks, immediately followed up with a resigning sigh. "Yeah. Okay. I understand. We'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone and gives me his classic, apologetic smile.

"What is it?" But I already know.

"She wants to meet you."

"Your girlfriend?" I jab a thumb into my chest. That word even sounds strange when I say it.

"Yes," he says with a shrug, bashfully twisting and flipping his phone between his fingers. "Since I never had one before you, it's a big deal to her."


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Thanks for sticking with this story and the slow-as-molasses updates. It's deeply appreciated. I work hard to give you quality. Hopefully, that shows. If you have any questions, leave a review, PM me, or drop by my Facebook group page. I'll definitely get back to you. **

**Thank you to my pre-reader, Brina, for hanging out with me these last six years. It's been a hell of a ride, huh? I heart you madly, gurl.**

**Another shout-out to my pre-reader, Dee. She's severely protective of this story and Jaspben. It makes me feel like this shit's worth it. I'm crushing hard on her, but also, I wouldn't fuck with her. She's legit scary. **

**An infinite love to my beta, MariahajilE, who cleans this up and makes it pretty. She's got a gift, my friends. I'm so lucky to have her.**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Jasper's parents met us at a café along Coast Highway. It's an eclectic place with a ton of knick-knack, wind chimes, fountains, out-of-control vines, and everything else I can't name. It reminds me of a hoarder's front lawn — like the city's going to come barging in at any minute and claim the space uninhabitable.

It surprises me they want to have breakfast here. My image of them is limited, but from what he's told me and from what they do for a living, I thought we'd be having mimosas at some expensive restaurant at Laguna's only high-rise — not here at some cramped café, where the first thing you see is a display full of praying Buddha statues.

They definitely know their son.

I'm nervous. This was a last-minute plan, and I didn't have time to take a shower. I tried my best to look presentable. Jasper keeps telling me I look fine, but I feel like a slob. My hair's a mess of a pile on my head, my maxi dress is wrinkled, and the jewelry around my neck is clumped together and tangled. I didn't even put makeup on. It was basically "wash your face to get the latent mascara crust out of the corner of your eyes" and go.

I'm not saying I need to wear fancy clothes or a tiara, but an hour of getting ready would've made me look less like a hobo.

"Jasper!"

We spin around toward the direction of the voice, and there she is — his mom. She's dressed to the nines and wearing designer from head to toe. I'm reminded of Renee, but the warm smile's strikingly unfamiliar.

My heart pounding with anxiety, I'm too stunned to move my feet. I want to keep my distance and admire from afar, but Jasper's squeezing my hand and urging me forward.

"Hey, bud," she says as we get closer and pulls him into a hug.

I examine her closely, noting the warm auburn hue of her hair. It's flawless and most likely the best dye job I've ever seen. She's got diamonds all over her fingers, like a gypsy. These rocks aren't rubbish; they're huge, and the clarity's obscene, perched proudly on a platinum band.

I fidget with my bronze and turquoise bracelets. How boho chic am I? God, this shit's uncomfortable. My stomach does flip-flops, and of course, I'm wishing we'd smoked a bowl beforehand. Jasper offered, sensing my unease, but I told him that's not how I wanted to meet his folks for the first time, all blazed up and red-eyed.

"Where's Dad?" he asks.

"He's running late, as usual, but he'll be here soon." She gazes down and notices his necklace. "That's a beautiful pendant you're wearing. Where did you get it?"

"Bella got it for me," Jasper says.

"Your girl sure knows you."

"Yep," he smiles, and then they both turn their identical blues on me.

"Is this her?"

"Mom, this is Bella." Jasper steps back into our space, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close, standing proudly at my side. He's my ally in the trenches, keeping me sane and upright.

I gulp and force out a smile. "Hi. It's nice to meet you."

Then, like I've been taught, my hand shoots out to shake hers, but she blows it off with a dismissive wave, and the next thing I know, she's hugging me. I'm stiff and frozen with shock, my eyes bulging out and searching for my guy over her shoulder. I need his help. He shrugs, like the train has already left the station and there's no sense chasing after it.

I can hear him now. _"Admit defeat, Bean."_

"And Bella." I hear Jasper, the traitor, in the background, chuckling. "This is my mom, Esme."

"Sorry," she says with embarrassment. "I get overly excited and handsy."

"That's okay," I say. This time, my smile's anything but forced.

We stand there in silence, and the awkwardness gets heavier and thicker and too obvious to ignore.

I don't know what to do or say.

The only experience I have with meeting the parents was Marcus' folks. They were easy to win over. I just acted all sweet, innocent, and showcased my talents on the piano. I can't do that here; I don't want to con Jasper's parents into liking me.

"Let's sit down," Jasper says and places his hands on my hips to steer me towards the table.

Esme keeps her eyes on me and takes her seat blindly. It's like she's studying me and wants to know what makes me so special. Why am I the only girl her son's ever brought home? And being under that sort of scrutiny makes me question myself.

What do Jasper and Edward see in me? It's not just one perfect, beautiful boy choosing a forever with me; it's two. That's monumental.

I've never really thought about how unique our situation is. I've been too wrapped up in their kisses, that primo weed, and the incredible sex to ponder what it all means.

Now that I'm forced to examine myself and the relationship with my guys, I can't find a single reason why they're with me.

"You're a pretty girl, Bella," Esme says.

"Thank you," I say and duck my head to take a quick peek over at Jasper. He nods, as if it isn't news to him.

"Did you grow up in Laguna?"

"No. Phoenix."

Esme grins with recognition. "It's a great city but hellish heat. Do you like things here?"

"Very much," I say, and my face heats up as my reason for everything rests his hand on my knee.

Laguna without Jasper and Edward is as blah as the Mexican food.

Esme doesn't miss a thing, always observing and taking in information at lightning speed. Jasper's the same way. I'm the only one at this table that's lagging behind. "How did you two meet?" she asks. The server comes at this time to get our drinks, and I'm released from her intense, speculating stare.

Thank God!

I'm fretting inside, unsure of how much she knows about her son's extracurricular activities and most definitely not wanting to lie, but how can we tell her the truth?

I'm seventeen and the daughter of a customer. Jasper's 23 and my dad's dealer. I'm sleeping with her son's best friend. He's also sleeping with his best friend. We're in a polygamous relationship. It's not ideal, certainly not legal, and most likely will be frowned upon, but we're extremely happy.

But considering how well Charlie took it — and he's the biggest pothead in Laguna — I doubt a woman who's classy and clearly has some moral fiber about her will take it any differently.

"So?" Esme raises her eyebrow when the question hangs too long in the air.

"Well, we, um..." I'm struggling to come up with a half-truth.

Jasper says it like it is. "We met while I was dealing to her father."

What surprises me is how it doesn't surprise Esme. She's nodding like he told her we met at the freaking library.

"And when was this?" she asks.

Now he hesitates, gazing away from her and over toward something random, like those hanging plants and clinging windchimes to our left. I can feel how this is one piece of the timeline he doesn't want to share with her. This increases my anxiety tenfold.

"Jasper..." Esme leans forward and to the side, trying to get a better view of his face. "She's the dysentery?"

He hunches his shoulders and nods.

She laughs. "Jesus, kiddo."

"Sorry," he says as a sheepish smile creeps up at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, man." She sits up and puts her eyes back on me. "He's a creative liar. I'll give him that."

"Okay. I don't…" I'm seeking answers from Jasper now. He's rubbing his forehead, occasionally glancing over at me, but still leaves me clueless. "Who's 'dysentery'?"

"You are, honey," Esme says.

"Isn't that like a—"

"Intestinal parasite?" she interrupts me. "You know, the kind of illness that'll give you the shits for days."

"Mom," Jasper groans.

"You see, my son told me he couldn't go to Cambodia because he was sick with dysentery, when it was actually because of you."

"Oh," I mumble.

What can I say?

The trip was a huge deal and something Jasper's parents went above and beyond to arrange for him. Not to mention the money they probably lost on the last-minute cancelation. I'm the reason he lied to them.

But I can't make myself apologize for something I'd gladly have him do again.

"I flaked on Cambodia and hung out with Bean instead." Jasper throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him as a united front. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Yeah, we can," Esme says, sipping on her mimosa and eyeing her son carefully. "How long are you planning to keep those awful dreads?"

I bite back a smile as Jasper swears under his breath.

"We've been over this. It's a spiritual journey through hair, about patience and growth—"

"Yadda, yadda, yadda," she says and rolls her eyes. "It's a fad, honey."

"I don't…" He breathes heavily through his nose and smiles. "It's my hair, mom. Okay?"

"Yeah, I know, but it's been four years. I miss that part of you." She sighs longingly. "He has such gorgeous hair, Bella."

I sit up and lean toward her. "Yeah? I just know him with the dreads."

"It's the same color — the sandy blond — but curly, and it's so soft." She smiles as her eyes light up. "Do you want to see a picture?"

"Hell yeah!" I can't even contain my excitement.

"Don't show her that." Jasper tries to rein his mom in, but like the train from earlier, it's left the station and there's no sense in chasing after it.

Accept defeat, babe.

"Here it is!" Esme pulls a small picture out of her wallet and hands it over to me. "He's about sixteen there."

Well, she wasn't lying about the curls. They're in his face, and boy… My guy's more than just beautiful; he's perfect. The sweet, clean-shaven boy I'd met in August is reminiscent in this photo. He's young, bright-eyed, and so much the same as he is now. The only thing that's changed is how he's grown into a man.

"Do you have a picture of Edward?" I ask.

It doesn't occur to me how odd my request must sound to her until after it's said, but I don't take it back and Esme doesn't call me out on it.

"Yeah, I do." She digs through the same Gucci wallet and pulls out another photo with the same dimensions. "He's about sixteen, maybe seventeen here."

I gasp, so awestruck by his long, straight penny bronzed hair. It's the classic surfer look, cut bluntly to his chin with the stringy strands getting into his eyes. He's smiling and showcasing all his teeth. Jasper's making jokes about our guy, but I can't get over how carefree and happy he is here. He's not hurt or damaged by his outer loss and inner war. The change in him is drastic and severe. I yearn for the boy in this picture and saddened by the reality that he's gone.

"Wow," I say and try to hand them over to her, but she pushes it back.

"Keep them."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," she says, with a genuine, understanding smile. "I have more copies at home."

"Thank you." I clutch them to my heart. "So much.

"You're welcome."

***00***

Jasper's dad shows up halfway through breakfast. He comes in like a steady, brooding storm and demands the attention of everyone in the café. He's not aware of the effect he has. No one does, only me. I'm aware of how handsome Carlisle Whitlock is. He's got the rugged, Indiana Jones vibe about him, except his khaki pants and a button-up shirt aren't covered in dirt and worn; they're clean and finely pressed.

There are few similarities between him and Jasper. Maybe he had sandy blond hair in his younger days, but it's gray now. He wears it longer than any businessman would. It's not slicked back and constantly getting into his hazel eyes.

I expect him to shake hands with me, but he shares his wife's affection for strangers and greets me in the same manner, with a speculating stare and a tight bear hug.

It's jarring at first, but it's telling of the people they are and the values they've passed over to their son.

After he gets settled in and our food's brought to the table, the conversation with them flows easily. I'm not being interrogated about how I came to be in Jasper's life. Everyone stays on a superficial level and never goes off topic, but I'm the main attraction.

Jasper sits back and gives me the spotlight, which I hate but understand. I'm the newbie and unknown part of the Whitlock equation.

All they really want to know is what my likes and dislikes are.

That's simple enough.

I tell them about my painting and surfing the waves, but what gets my guy's attention is my plans to start taking ballet again. When it's not pushed upon me by an overly abrasive mother, I realize how much I enjoyed it.

It's just a thought, but with high school not being an obligation anymore, I've got time to play around with my career and desired path in life.

When they get bored with me — and they do — I use that window of opportunity to learn more about my guys.

Of course, Esme indulges me with every embarrassing story she knows.

"When Jasper was ten, I caught him smoking weed for the first time."

He snorts. "No. That's just the first time you caught me."

She's unaffected by his confession and carries on. "He tried to hide it by stuffing a towel under the door, but I'm a 60s flower child at heart."

"And that was our stash he was smoking," Carlisle adds, giving me a wink as he stuffs a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"Regardless of whose weed it was, I knew that smell and knew what he was doing," Esme smiles at Jasper, and her eyes are beaming with pride.

"And yet, you still came barging into my room like the goddamn SWAT," Jasper says with a laugh.

"Don't exaggerate," she says.

He's fully into the story now, leaning in close and expressing every word with his hands. "I'm a kid who's never been in trouble in his entire life and is basically pissing his pants at this point, scared shitless that they're going to take my board away and ground me for weeks, right? But here comes Mom, cool as a cucumber. She sits down on my bed and says, 'Is there anything you want to talk about? Are you depressed? Lonely? Are you using weed to fill a hole you feel your father and I aren't filling for you?'"

"I took psychology in college," she explains to me with a shrug.

I grin at her and think, _You're so beautiful and such a supportive mom and freaking light years ahead of mine._

But maybe this is how it's supposed to be; your kids are supposed to come first, and Renee's been doing it all wrong.

"One class doesn't make you qualified to psychoanalyze your son," Jasper says.

"Didn't you flunk out of psychology?" Carlisle butts in, and his brow furrows in concentration as he remembers a tad bit of information that was meant to be buried.

"Yes." She glares at him.

"How in the hell do you fail Psych 101?" Jasper asks, but he's teasing her.

Esme's far from stupid. She's a mogul, just like her husband. They've managed to build and grow a successful banking empire from nothing, but their genius is nowhere near their son's.

He's entirely other.

A botanist and a free thinker, Jasper can create things from dirt, add to them, make them stronger and better. They nurture this hippy side and encourage him to see beyond convention. They know he's the type of man that's going to change the world.

But whatever affect he has, it's because they're the cause. Everything he breathes and knows is because of them.

"The same way you failed gym, kiddo," she says and tips back the last bit of her mimosa. "There are better things to do with your life."

***00***

It's 10:15 in the morning, and breakfast with the Whitlocks is winding down. I'm stuffed to the max and ready for a nap. The last 2 ½ hours have been surprisingly fun and a real eye-opener. Jasper's parents are warm, sincere people, and they welcomed me into their family without question. I'm not used to that type of unconditional acceptance.

Maybe it's because I was the first girl he brought home, but that doesn't mean they had to be nice. They could've shunned me or took one look at my young, underage face and forbid Jasper to see me, demanded he end our relationship before someone gets hurt — me — or someone gets locked up in jail — him.

Knowing them now, I see where Jasper gets his empathy and acceptance. They're so much of the same, with their beliefs for the greater good in people.

Where Jasper splits and diverts from his parents is when they start discussing means of making money.

Being a banker, or being the CEO of a bank, is a cutthroat business. My guy disapproves of how they operate, with how they schmooze stockholders and devalue their beliefs by cheating customers to get that extra dollar. They try to appease their son by donating to charities and recycling, but he loathes every aspect of their form of capitalism.

It's the nature of the game and a simple, required Chess move.

He knows this.

Even with his business with Edward of profiting off weed, no matter if you think you're helping people, it's still another form of capitalism.

That's his crutch.

And the marijuana isn't his end game.

It's just a stepping stone toward retirement.

I don't think he's told Edward, yet.

"You should have breakfast with us more often, Bella," Esme says out of nowhere.

We're alone. Jasper and his dad left us to go pay the bill up front. The conversation between us was easy, flowing without having to force it, but this curve ball she throws me is unexpected. I lose all train of thought and simply gawk at her.

My silence causes her to second-guess herself. "You know, while Jasper's away at school. I don't want to wait for him to come home in five months just so we can see you again. Will that be okay?"

Those eyes of hers kill me. There's so much of Jasper's softness is there…

"Yeah." My throat clenches up with all this stupid emotion. "I'd really like that."

"Good." Esme smiles and reaches over to pat my hand.

The wind blows, and the chimes sing, setting a serene atmosphere within our awkward silence. Even the mixture of voices has faded into a hum. I smile at her but scan the restaurant looking for Jasper, needing him back as my buffer.

Through the many corkscrew vines and narrow aisles, swarmed with a crowd of people, I see the top of Jasper's head bobbing up and down. Those dreads I'd recognize anywhere.

A second after that, our eyes meet, and from here, I can't see him smile, but I know he is.

Carlisle doesn't stroll; he speed walks, like he's physically being pulled by strings back to his wife, and approaches the table first. He leans down to kiss Esme on the forehead and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He says something I can't hear. She smiles at him but holds out her hand. He laughs and gives her back her black credit card.

This interaction between them takes less than a second. No words were spoken but so much was said.

They're best friends who are in love. That closeness and unshakeable bond between them gives me hope.

I want that for us.

"Bean," Jasper whispers to get my attention but keep the world out.

"Hey," I whisper back.

He drags his chair out and pulls it up to mine. Sitting down, he puts his arm around my shoulders and leans in. We're close enough to inhale and exhale each other's air. It's intimate and very telling to what we are: lovers, friends, soulmates.

"I got something for you," he says.

"Oh, yeah? What?"

He glances down towards my lap and opens his hand. There, inside his palm, is a beautiful necklace with an embossed golden lotus medallion.

My eyes fly back up to his. "Holy shit. Where did you find this?"

Jasper gestures for me to turn around so he can put the chain around my neck. "I got it up front at the jewelry counter. It was the only one they had. The clerk told me I was lucky to get it. Lotuses aren't something they normally sell or stock." He scoffs with me. "Probably a bullshit sales pitch, I know. It was just too coincidental to walk away from."

I peer down and hold it between my fingers. "Good call."

"Let me see."

I turn around to show it off to him, and he's chewing on his lip, clearly nervous and unsure about his purchase.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"More than like," I say, dropping it and putting my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating as fast as mine. "I'm in love."

Jasper smiles but doesn't kiss me. We're both aware of his parents on the opposite of the table watching our every move and listening to our every word.

"Thank you," I say, but it doesn't seem like enough.

"You're welcome." He leans away to get a better perspective of the necklace and nods with approval. "It looks good on you."

That's just another piece of him he's leaving with me. I know him better than he thinks. Maybe there was a jewelry counter up front, maybe there wasn't, but now, with his Buddha pendant and my lotus pendant, we'll always be on each other's minds…

Jasper reads my thoughts quicker than I can think them. "We'll get something for him."

Carlisle clears his throat to regain our attention. How long has it been since they sat back down? It's hard to keep time when I'm with my guys. Minutes seem like seconds, and hours feel like minutes. Only when we're apart does my life stop and forever's a literal eternity.

"What's up, Dad?" Jasper smirks but keeps his eyes on me.

"I'm just curious about your plans," he says.

"My plans?" This confuses him enough to look over at his parents. "What are you talking about?"

"When are you planning on heading back up to Berkeley?" Carlisle asks.

That one word has the uncanny power of destroying my good mood.

"I'm probably going to leave Laguna around 1:00 today, but I gotta drop Bella off at home with Edward first." Jasper says this as normal and as conversational as discussing the weather, but his parents catch on to what he's said long before he does.

Carlisle folds his arms over his chest and slouches down in his chair. He's not the least surprised or upset, but he's anticipating his wife's reaction.

"Back up for a second," Esme says, almost too carefully, and I see the dismay in her eyes. "Bella lives with Edward?"

Jasper stares at her wide-eyed. "What?"

I want to turn back the clock, or at the very least run far away from this place and this conversation. Nothing good's going to come out of it; just more questions with more uncomfortable answers.

"You said you have to drop Bella off at home with Edward," she repeats, nearly fucking verbatim.

"'Fess up, son," Carlisle says with his head cast down, but even from this angle, I can see him smirking. "It's easier."

"All right, then." Jasper sits tall in his chair and places a supportive hand on my back. "Bella lives with Edward. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that Edward's mature," Esme says, listing the first point on her index finger.

"And I'm not?" Jasper fires back.

"No, you're not."

"I'm 23 and mastering in two degrees. I'm not some kid."

"Yeah, but you haven't been to war, Jasper." She presses her palms against her head and attempts to calm herself. "He's killed people and seen people close to him get killed."

"Mom, stop." Jasper shakes his head.

"You don't think I love him, too? I do, but he's not like you anymore, okay? He's different."

"What do you think's going to happen?" Jasper clasps his hands together and leans forward. He's pushing her. "Do you think he's going to try something with her?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Esme brushes him off and looks back at me. "Bella, what does your dad think of all this?"

I stare at her in sheer panic.

"He's an absentee, all right?" Jasper becomes my voice. "She's safer with Edward. He'll take care of her."

"He carries a gun. He's dangerous," Esme says with a flustered exhale. "I'm sorry. I don't trust him."

She's just protecting me, but my heart breaks for Edward and the way the only mom he has now sees him as just another damaged, fucked up sailor of war.

Jasper laughs. "You don't fucking know him."

"Maybe we should just take a step back for a second," Carlisle says, but Esme sees this as the two men in her life gaining up on her.

"Is it such a horrible thing for me to disagree about Bella living with Edward? Really? This guy beat up some kid with his surfboard and put him in the hospital. His own psychiatrist said he's volatile and needs treatment, for God's sake!"

"That's it. I've heard enough." Jasper turns to me and smiles weakly. "Ready to go?"

"Um, yeah…" I say, and reach down to slip on my sandals.

As the Whitlocks continue to bicker, I glance up to find my nearest exit and catch a glimpse of a familiar hot pink cardigan instead. The hair's different, longer and blonde, but the resting bitch face is the same.

My blood runs cold with recognition.

No, no. Not here. Not now.

How can my luck be this bad? Out of every single café in Laguna, Alice decides to show up to this one?

Fucking really?

She smiles at the server and takes a seat three tables away from ours. I want to leave before she sees me, but I can't seem to make myself move. I'm stunned by her change of appearance. Everything about her clothes, makeup, and the subtle waves in her hair is so much like my own; it's off-putting and gives me a sickening feeling.

Alice looks up from the menu and scans the café. I try to duck from her view, but I'm too slow and my effort's feeble. Those eyes stop and burn a hole into my head with an evil, hateful glare.

If it was only me here and no one else, she might settle with flipping me off and calling it a day, but she takes in each person at my table, one by one. It clicks with her as each face registers. She knows why we're here and what it means. That's all it takes. She jumps to her feet and storms over to us in an unstoppable rage.

Jasper's in sync with me and anticipates my emotions. "What is it, baby?"

"It's Alice," I whisper and cringe as the scuffling of her steps gets louder and closer. "Fuck."

The next two seconds slow into an agonizing crawl. I watch in horror as Alice pulls up a chair and sits down. She ignores Esme and Carlisle's confused stares. All her focus is on what's mine.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Edward." She scoots herself towards Jasper, closing the distance between them. It irritates me that she believes she deserves to breathe the same air as him. "The tribe is disappointed in you guys."

I roll my eyes but keep my mouth shut. There's no point in encouraging her by fanning that flame. She's just wants a reaction, and it's not worth it.

"What am I missing?" My guy takes a diplomatic stance. "If memory serves me correctly, didn't Edward cut you off?" He leans away from her and into me. I smile when his hand goes to my thigh, squeezing it protectively and indicating his ownership. "Yeah, that's right. No more Kush will be given or sold to any Brandon in Laguna — not by him, not by Bella, and especially not by me."

"You don't control the weed market!" Alice huffs, but she knows damn well he grows the best. Her nostrils flare, and she stomps her foot. "I figured Edward was just in it to bang a teenager and would eventually grow tired of the game, but I expected more of you, Whitlock. You're different and above this…" She flicks her wrist at me dismissively. "…trash."

A flash of pain goes across Jasper's face, and his heart aches for me. He might not react with the same hard-edged fury as Edward, but his words are just as harsh.

"You don't know what you're talking about. The tribe is bullshit. These ideas you've got going on in your head are fantasy. I'm with Bella." He sighs, not wanting to be a total dick, and refrains from saying what he really wants to say. "I got a dime on me, but that's it. You leave now, and it's all yours."

I see what he's doing, making peace by giving up a freebie to her habit, but she doesn't want that. The only thing she set out to accomplish by coming up to this table was to destroy me.

"A dime of weed? For what? My silence?" She laughs. "Well, forget it. The tribe isn't bullshit to the people in Laguna! The fact that you refer to it that way just means you and Edward ought to be voted out."

"That's even better than offering you my shitty weed," Jasper says with a smile. "We're done here."

I glance over at Esme and Carlisle, who've been so quiet. They still don't comprehend who this crazy girl is, but they're intrigued, watching every intense moment as it unfolds. As my guy takes his eyes off her and sets them back on me, Alice quickly realizes she's been written off and goes straight for my jugular.

"What about your parents, Whitlock? Do they know about her?"

"Alice." I bite my tongue, holding back stronger and damaging names to call her. "Just stop. Please."

"No, I won't stop." She glares over at me. "I told you not to mess with tribal men. They're already taken and don't belong to you!"

It hits me how Edward wasn't the problem, not really where Alice was concerned.

That's why all those times I was driven to school by him, she never batted an eye. It wasn't until I kissed Jasper in front of her that shit finally hit the fan. The tribe claimed him long ago, long before I came into town, to be married off to one girl and one girl only.

It just wasn't supposed to be me.

"But you never listen, because you're nothing but a whore," Alice says in a whispered hush, but with as much venom as she put into each syllable, she might as well have yelled it.

That one word has the intended effect, and the whole table erupts.

"Whoa! Time out." Jasper loses all his chilled, impassive bravado, and slams his hand on the table. "That shit's fucking uncalled for."

"Now, that's enough, young lady," Esme says and goes into a protective mother mode.

Carlisle's waving over security and pointing toward the problem.

"What? Like it's not the truth?" Alice draws a crowd, and everyone's looking at us, but she speaks fast before they come and haul her away. "She's seventeen, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. Did he tell you that?" She gets the stunned response she wanted from Esme, and it fuels her. "Yeah. That's what I thought. I bet he also failed to mention that she's not only sleeping with your son but his best friend, too?"

"Oh, God," I groan and hide my face in Jasper's chest.

It's out there. We're done. They're going to think I'm a slut. Who sleeps around with two guys? And now that they know I'm only seventeen, underage and a threat to Jasper, they'll make him stop seeing me.

I knew it would come out, eventually; I just… I didn't want them to find out this way.

I'm shivering now and on the verge of frustrated tears. Jasper wraps his arms around me, and for the next three or four seconds, all I hear his deep, smooth voice telling me over and over how everything's okay, how much he loves me, and how it doesn't matter what his parents think.

But it all matters to me.

I wanted the breakfast dates with them. I wanted them to love me in a way they love Jasper. They're the home with a family I never really had. But now it's all over.

"All right, miss," one of the security guards says. "Come with us."

"Don't touch me." The chair's legs scrape against the concrete. "I'm leaving."

And I expect that to be the end, but Esme's voice startles me. "One thing before you go, sweetie."

I flinch, dying a little inside when she called her that. Maybe she agrees with the tribe's rules and consents to Alice being with Jasper. She's purebred with lots of money. It makes more sense for him to be with her than with me.

"Yes, ma'am," she chirps. Her tone's brighter and drenched in victory.

That fucking bitch.

"We trust our son's decisions in life. He's smart and doesn't take his relationships lightly. If he feels Bella's worth his time and the risk to date someone of her age, we support him."

"But she's fucking two guys—"

"And furthermore," Esme interrupts, her tone sharp and stern. "If my son doesn't see an issue with Bella also dating Edward—" She pauses.

"I have no issue with that." Jasper keeps me taut against him.

"Then we have no issues with that," Esme says. "Is that clear, young lady?"

I hear the distinct shuffling of sandals, but then they stop when Carlisle calls out for her.

"What?" Alice snaps.

"Your father banks with us, doesn't he?" Carlisle asks.

"Yes…" she replies slowly "Why?"

"No reason. Just know that if you bother my son or his girlfriend again and I hear about it, I'll make sure your little habit gets much harder to feed. Do we understand each other?"

"Yeah," she says, and the shuffling picks up again, but it's dragging. It eventually gets softer and softer, until she fades away completely.

She's gone, but the fallout from her bomb still remains. I'm not ready to face Jasper's parents, yet. They know everything, and no stones were left unturned. Despite what Esme said to Alice about accepting all of this, I fear it was all for show, like, they're really pissed off but put up a united front against the threat. They're the type of people to keep all family business behind closed doors.

"Hey," Jasper rests his cheek against my head and whispers into my hair. "Are you okay?"

I nod.

The silence looms as he holds me there, with no intent on letting go, but even in the quiet, I hear their thoughts as if they're shouting them. Jasper's just as in tuned, if not more.

"Look, I know what you're thinking," he says to his parents.

"You do, do you?" Esme asks, and yes, she's upset but not in the way I expect.

"Yeah, but this thing we got going with Bella—"

"We?" Esme interrupts, that one plural setting her off.

Jasper knows she wants him to say it. "Edward and I are both dating Bella. She's our girlfriend."

I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter and wish this shit wasn't happening. It sounds so bad said out loud to his parents.

Carlisle goes to say something, but Esme talks first. "And she lives with him?"

"It's not as salacious as it sounds, all right? Jesus, Mom— Don't look at me like that. We know what we're doing."

"Essie…" Carlisle's voice is so gentle and sympathetic. "We raised a good kid."

She sighs. "So you're sure, then?"

"I wouldn't have brought her here if I wasn't."

Never one to do anything without thinking every possible outcome through, Jasper knew this might happen. He anticipated it. The second he announced me as his girlfriend to his mom, he was prepared to lay everything out on the table. He wasn't going to apologize or be persuaded by their opinions. It didn't matter to him what they thought. He was just giving them a courtesy of knowing me, not asking for their blessing.

I don't know why — maybe it's a morbid curiosity to see the wound and how badly the blood is pouring out — but I remove myself from the safe haven of Jasper's chest and peer over at his parents. There's no anger or hatred, not even confusion, on either one of their faces. Whatever stages of grief they've gone through in the last five minutes, I can happily report that they've settled on acceptance.

"Okay, son." Esme catches my eyes and speaks directly to me. "We trust you."

***00***

Edward's sleeping on the futon when we return home. Jasper gives me a quick kiss and leaves to go pack up his stuff in the bedroom. I touch the lingering tingle on my lips, but my eyes go to the other half of my heart. He looks young and so boyish when he's vulnerable to this world, and I can't help but want him that much more.

Bounding toward him at full speed, I jump up and land on top of his chest. He wakes up with a loud grunt as the air's pushed out of his lungs by my sudden weight. Those big, strong arms of his wrap around my body and hug me tight, instantly taking the last bit of my breath.

It's only fair.

But even if my head's getting light and fuzzy, I'm starving for this man and need to taste him. Kissing along his neck and sharp jaw, I follow it up to his full, sweet lips. He's not fully awake yet, but he responds when our mouths meet, giving it back to me just as hard. There's always clarity in his chaos.

I'm safe with him.

"Hey," he mumbles sleepily between kisses.

"Hey," I reply back, but I don't want to waste time talking. It seems like forever since we've been together like this, and I'm aching everywhere.

Sliding my knees up to straddle him, Edward shifts his body down and lines himself up with me, fitting perfectly together like a puzzle. He grabs my ass and squeezes so hard and deep that I feel his fingertips leaving indentations into my skin. Pulling me down as he pushes his hips up, we collide, beautifully and painfully.

I gasp. He's hard.

Fuck.

With their thin fabric, those boardshorts are a blessing and a curse. I feel every inch of his cock rub against me as my pussy rocks onto him, but it's still a damn tease. It won't be good enough until he's fully inside and fucking me.

I decide to move this train along by reaching back and pulling my dress up. Edward groans when his hands come in contact with bare ass. Another aggressive, forceful thrust up, and it's even more obvious now how much he wants this. No nosy eyes of a party crowd or his entrepreneur plans of drug dealing can get in our way and stop him from having me.

Ripping my lips from his, I yank my top down and put my tit into his mouth. He takes it, biting and sucking hard on my nipple. Damn. This feels amazing sober, and my eyes roll back into my skull. He's so good, and the technique he uses with his tongue and teeth — taking and luring me in with a beat — is a deadly rhythm. It's the same when he's eating me out.

Flick, flick, suck, bite, bite, flick, suck.

_Fuck!_

Both of my guys know how to drive me crazy.

Edward growls and flips us over on the futon. He's on top, shoving my legs open and pulling my thong over to the side. He rubs his fingers up and down, spreading my wetness. It's slick, just for him, and he teeters in and out of me, but he refuses to go knuckles deep. I'm grasping the back of his neck with both hands, wanting to kiss him, but he's too fixated on the way my chest moves as I pant. My nipples get even harder under his gaze. They ache, hurting and needing him to put his mouth around them.

He never does, and I'm getting impatient.

I move my hips to match every stroke he makes between my lips in the hope he'll slip up and push inside me. It's maddening to be on the edge and be pulled back. He's being a tease, knowing exactly what to do to make me come but holding off so he can watch me squirm.

And I'm doing just that.

My thighs are quivering and closing around his arm every two seconds. It traps him, restricting his already restricted movements, and this only pisses him off. He pushes them apart and goes deeper with his fingers, but he pulls out and drags them slowly along my pussy. I stare into his eyes, pleading and begging him to keep going. All I want to do is feel him, hard and rough, until I come.

It's been too long.

"Damn it, Edward," I manage to get out in absolute frustration, but he deters me by rolling his thumb over my clit. I'm so sensitive, and my back arches from that simple touch. A loud moan escapes my parted lips and crashes with the rolling waves.

He stills and presses his forehead to mine so hard that it's painful. "Be quiet and I'll fuck you."

I bite back all future moans and nod.

That's all it takes. He removes his fingers and hooks my leg over him. My thong's torn off with a rip of fabric and one yank. The boardshorts serves as easy access, and he barely has to pull them down over his ass. Pressing the head of his cock up against me as he gets into position, I try my best not to rush him, but even the slightest of shifts of his hips cause the most beautiful friction.

I dig my nails into his shoulders.

Edward grips me by the neck and pulls me close with a jerk. I think he wants a kiss, but he puts his palm up to my mouth instead. My eyes close as I lean in and lick it. He moves his hand down and strokes his dick a few times, mixing my spit with his pre-cum. He shifts my leg up higher and yanks me forward until he's entered me all the way in.

I open my eyes with a start and see his greens staring back at me.

He hasn't moved, breathing in deep and steady to maintain his control. But I'm tight and so wet. My pussy clenches around him with every twitch. We feel good together, and the heat radiating between us is overwhelming. It's getting difficult to keep my promise.

Edward holds my face and slowly pulls out. I gasp and chew on my lip. He'll stop if I make a sound. When my silence continues, he slams back in — _hard_. He grunts and buries his face into the crook of my neck. Pumping in and out of me, I'm amazed how good this feels. The tension's building in my stomach and tightening every muscle in my body. I'm grasping onto his back and rolling my hips with him, matching his hectic tempo.

I try to pull his head up to kiss his mouth, but he won't allow it. Edward distracts my attempts by fucking me harder. That's all he knows how to do. The futon's creaking and rocking under all the duress. He's gripping the cushions as leverage, rocking and thrusting faster, rougher into me. Our skins are smacking together as his cock slips and slides with ease. He breathes me in, like a hit off his bong, and exhales me out, like a puff of smoke.

I lose my shit when he drops his mouth to my neck and sinks his teeth in to mark me.

My promise is broken; I whimper and rub against him, seeking more. He reaches down, sensing my urgency, and massages my clit. It's like a fire, subtly growing and quickly burning out of control.

_Fuuuck_.

Every muscle in my body tightens, and I shudder around him. It lasts a mere 1.3 seconds, tingling and curling my toes, but washes an instant calm over me. I'm dazed and barely opening my eyes when Edward groans and pulls out. He pushes the dress high up on my chest and lays his dick flush against my stomach.

I watch as he twists and yanks on his dick, shooting and coming all over my breasts. This is the first time he's allowed me to see his face contort in this way, so intimately. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen. Knowing I'm the cause and the one thing right now that's making him feel this good turns me on, and I want to taste him. Sitting up, I quickly put my mouth around him before he can pull away, sucking him and riding out that last surf. Edward's twitching, gasping, and swearing out my name. He puts his fingers in my hair and thrusts his hips up, pushing himself all the way to the back of my throat.

Taking him all, I bob up and down on him. It's a bitter taste but not bad. I tongue him along the slit, basically anywhere his cum remains, until there isn't a drop left.

He releases his grip on me and falls back onto the futon's cushions. My guy sighs contentedly and blissfully. I pull him, limp, out of my mouth. He shivers as I tenderly run a finger along his shaft, but he doesn't open his eyes. I hear a shuffling of feet to my left, and my head snaps up, catching a glimpse of Jasper poised against the wall. There's a beautiful, gut-squeezing smile on his face, but before I can say anything, he slips back into the bedroom and shuts the door.

***00***

Jasper doesn't leave at 1:00. He waits around for Edward to wake up, and we have one last dinner together. We eat Chinese takeout, sit out on the back patio, and watch the sun set. It's really beautiful, these moments with my guys, and reminds me of our freedom in the Bahamas; the simplicity of being who we are and not having to defend it or hide it from people. Things are so exhausting here, always looking over our shoulders and worrying about which person might see what. After all the shit that went down today, I wouldn't mind packing up our things and running away there… forever.

It's not like I'd miss much here.

On some level, Edward and Jasper feel the same as me, but leaving isn't something either of them is willing to do. The business and their future as marijuana distributors are rooted in Laguna. It's a focal point and priority to them. That's what so wonderful about dealing weed; it's a free market. Anyone can do their own thing without worrying about stepping on the wrong asshole's toes. The only thing that gets you ahead of the pack in this game is your product, and after the huge fucking success of last night's party, the word's out: the Laguna tribe kings got the Kush.

They don't openly discuss money matters in front of me, but they don't lie when I ask.

"So how much did you make?"

My curiosity earns me a cut-and-dry answer from Edward. "Enough to break even."

After dinner, I go into the house to leave my guys alone and have their time together. It's such an amazing thing to watch them interact. There's a lot of head nods and silence. I can only make out a few words, but then the atmosphere changes when they share one last bong. The image of them laughing isn't something I'll ever get out of my head. That familiarity and the closeness are deeply entrenched in every aspect of their friendship.

I'm hit with a realization that their bond — that love they have for one another — is identical to what Esme and Carlisle share.

Anyone else in my position would feel jealous or outcasted — so overwhelmed with the idea that there's no way these boys will love you in the way they obviously love each other — but that's not what emotion courses through my heart when I look at them.

It's knowing that, without a doubt, they love me just as much and that it doesn't matter if I'm new to the friendship. That completeness they feel — what we all feel — is because I was the missing piece to their relationship.

Jasper calls it the Aha Moment.

"_I went to a restaurant once and ordered this amazing dish. It smelled good, tasted great, and satiated me. I had no complaints. But this one time, the waitress suggested a sauce to put on it. Of course, I was hesitant, not really believing I needed anything extra to make this food better, but she was persistent and convinced me to try it. What would it hurt? If I didn't like it, I didn't have to have it again. But I tried it, and not only did it make the dish better, but if fucking excited my taste buds. I couldn't believe it or imagine not having this sauce ever again. It made things come together. The rice melted in my mouth, and the goddamn pork made sense to me. And I'm Jewish. I felt stupid for not trying it sooner. That's the Aha Moment. That's you, Bean_."

Of course, Jasper was high when he said this, but it always made perfect sense to me.

Around 8:00, I'm midway through one of my crime shows when the sudden clattering and scraping of chairs against the wooden deck catches my attention. My guys are hugging and telling each other goodbye. Edward's lips move quickly against Jasper's ear. He nods in response, pulling back just enough to kiss Edward. They don't linger or make out, not like I want them to, but it's tender and heartfelt enough to cause a longing ache.

They hug again, patting each other's back.

As if they know I'm watching them, they turn and stare back at me. My cheeks heat up, and I glance away. Suddenly, the bowl of melted ice cream looks a lot more interesting to me, and I start scooping sloppy, running spoonfuls into my mouth. The arcadia door slides open, but I don't look. There are hushed voices, the guys murmuring to each other, and I strain my ears to hear, but the damn television's too loud. I'd have to turn down the volume to catch the gist of their conversation.

That's not obvious or anything.

Jasper comes around the futon and crouches next to me. "Hey."

"Hey," I say and reach out to cup his cheek. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah." He puts his hand over mine and groans. "This sucks. I hate it."

"Me, too." I lean forward and kiss him. "Just five months, right?"

Edward snorts from behind me. He's still by the patio door, with his arms folded over his chest, but his eyes are on the TV.

"We'll shoot for next month," Jasper says, and his blue eyes burn into mine. "I don't want to be distracted. I want to focus on my work, but Edward says that's not possible for me — _us _— anymore."

"Play it by ear, then?" I offer, knowing the last thing he needs is for me to make this shit hard on him.

He's struggling to leave as it is.

"Yeah, we'll play it by ear." Jasper smiles and kisses me one last time, deeper and longer, until we're both needing air. He lets his forehead fall to mine, and he sighs, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He stands and pulls me up into his hug. I'm locking the smell of his skin and clothes into the vault of my brain. It's crazy how letting him go is this hard when I know Edward will drive me up to see him anytime I want, but not having him in our bed for the first time in weeks will be a tough adjustment. We all feel that.

"All right." Jasper lets me go. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Most definitely," I say.

Edward doesn't move from his spot but gives a small wave. "Drive safe, man."

"I will," he says.

Jasper walks to the door and picks up his bags. Never once does he look back. My guy knows better. And just as quickly as he came into the house unexpectedly, he's leaving just as fast. The sound of his Bronco starting up and peeling out is faint to normal ears, but to mine, it's so fucking loud and annoying.

I glance back at Edward and frown. "He's gone."

He doesn't say a word as he pushes himself off the wall and comes around to hold me in his arms, but it doesn't last long. My guy has a clock in his head on how long he's required to comfort somebody. Most people get nothing. Jasper gets one second, maybe two if he's really distraught. Me?

I get ten seconds.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Hello! I'm super excited that I was able to get some inspiration and get this chapter written. It's been a struggle for sometime. All and all, 2016 hasn't been a great year, but I'm hoping it'll get better soon. I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe in these scary times. Thanks for hanging in there, and let's all forget about the bullshit and hang out on the beaches with Bean and her boys for five minutes, deal?**

**Thank you to my pre-reader, Brina, for hanging out with me when I went to California. I adore ya tremendously, even if I don't say it often enough. I hope you know that. Truly and sincerely, you're the most kindest and legit person.**

**And to my other, harasser-um, err, I mean pre-reader, Dee. She's been making sure I stay on top of this story. If it wasn't for her, I'm pretty sure I would've let SoCal slip into a long-lasting hiatus. That's not good for anybody. So again, Dee...thank you!**

**And last but not least, a trillion and a half thanks and love to my beta, MariahajilE. She busts her ass for me, for all her other authors she beta for, and this fandom. I can't even tell you how much mad respect I have for this woman. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I'm so fucking lucky to have her.**

**Let's do this...**

**Chapter Twenty-Three **

It's only been two hours since he left, but the house is quieter. There's less life and exuberance within these four walls. Everything's washed out now. The bright blue wallpaper, with that damn pineapple pattern, looks gray and drab somehow. I wonder if it's always been this way and Jasper's the one who put the color into it. Maybe he took it all with him to Berkeley.

I don't know.

Either way, it's a trip, and I can't seem to get high enough to phase these thoughts out.

"Take it easy," Edward warns, though he still lights up my pipe's bowl.

I moan, scooting my ass further down on the couch, shoving myself into the thrust of his hand.  
He's on his phone, trying to multitask by making deals with potential buyers and consoling me. Well, if you consider supplying my habit with supreme Kush and a gentle finger-fucking as consoling, then yes, I'm feeling much better.

"It's twenty for two dime bags." He inches inside of me a little more until his knuckles are flush against me. My eyes roll back, and I blow out smoke rings. The rumble of his rough, deep voice becomes a comforting hum. "Doesn't matter what he sold it to you for. You're dealing with me now."

It's all business with Edward, but that's how he copes. He's not sensitive like Jasper and doesn't openly talk about his feelings. Less is more with him, and for me, that's a huge relief. I need his coldness and strength right now. The way he's able to turn it off and stay unattached prevents me from getting overly emotional with him.

Edward knows real pain and loss.

But why does my heart ache?

"He's just fucking eight hours away, Bean."

I know, I know.

So, I shut down and resort to my only coping mechanism: getting high and coming apart with a quiver of my thighs and a deep, satiated sigh.

Then, and only then, do I fall asleep.

**(0)(0) **

Edward may have unpredictable moods, but his waking habits are more than just predictable; they're like clockwork. And if I want to surprise him with breakfast in bed, I have to be up before the sun.

Tiptoeing into the room, I set the food on the dresser and stop to watch him sleep for a few more minutes. My heart skips a few hundred beats. I can't get over how young he looks. In spite of every inch of him being all man, it's in these moments, when he's at his most vulnerable, that the boy in him really shows through.

The scars that have carved the hardness into him are barely visible in this light. He's growing his hair out from the military cut, and the reddish hues Jasper told me about are finally making an appearance.

I pouted a little last night when Edward asked me he shave it down for him.

Manageability, he told me.

I just want to fist my guys' hair in my hands and yank the shit out of it, but with one all about keeping it short and the other one on a spiritual journey, I'm left to tug at my own.

And let me tell you, it's not the fucking same.

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. **

The alarm on Edward's watch goes off as I'm reaching out to brush the hair from his forehead. The sudden jerk of his body into an upright position startles me. I trip over my own feet and fall back into the wall. He reacts on instinct by grabbing the bottom of my shirt and yanking me forward. I'm in his arms and sitting on his lap with a gun pointed over my head in the matter of a second.

He's not breathing; completely silent but alert. I keep glancing back and forth between his wide eyes and his finger twitching on the trigger, which is just aching for a reason.

"Edward, it's okay," I whisper, reaching up to touch his face slowly. I don't want to spook him.

"It's just us."

"Bean?" He's groggy, and his voice is raspy, but he drops his guard as he lowers the pistol. "You hurt?"

"I'm fine," I say, and his body relaxes considerably. He's cute. His protectiveness is how he shows love, but I can't stop myself from teasing him. "Aren't we a little jumpy this morning?"

"Old habits." He chuckles as his face and neck redden with embarrassment. The smell of my food hits his nose, but he doesn't turn to look towards the source. He narrows his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I made you breakfast." I jump up and grab the tray. He repels away as I hold it out to him. There's uncertainty in his eyes. It's funny. Sort of. "What's wrong? I didn't poison it or anything."

"You didn't have to do this."

I know what he means. "But I wanted to."

He nods and takes the food. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I say with as much cheer as I can muster, but I'm a little deflated.

My grand gesture didn't go over as well or as spectacularly as I'd hoped, but that's Edward. He doesn't show his emotions or shower me with kisses like Jasper does, but his raw roughness in bed and the undeniable need I feel for him are what keep me tethered to his side.

He eats a piece of bacon and shows me a hint of a smile. "It's good."

"Try not to sound so surprised," I tease, and just like that, I'm fucking goo at his feet.

Even the tiniest signs of approval from him are like an oasis in the Sahara Desert to a person dying of thirst.

I can't drink enough of this man.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to imply."

I wave him off. "Oh, I know."

Edward readjusts himself in bed, and the sheets slide off his thigh. He grabs them and covers himself back up, but it's too late. I've seen the goods. In an instant, my throat goes dry, and I'm briefly reminded of why it was so hard for me to get up this morning.

It takes me a second to get my brain back on track.

I nudge his leg with my knee. "So you like it?"

"Right now, it's rivaling Jasper's pancakes." He playfully pops another slice of bacon into his mouth.

I laugh and take a seat next to him. "You're sweet but full of shit. I couldn't come close to those damn pancakes."

The secret to Jasper's blueberry dream isn't the blueberries or even the whip cream; it's the extra bit of herb he sprinkles into the batter. I call them pan-weed-cakes, and they're obviously pretty damn amazing.

"So what's the occasion?"

"No occasion. I just thought since it's going to be us two and not so much a three a lot of the time that I could do something nice to break the ice."

"You suddenly fucking nervous to be around me?"

Maybe that was a wrong choice of words.

"All I meant to say was that it's going to be just me here and I don't want you to be disappointed."

Fuck! Why can't I say this right?

Edward's severe scowl softens, but he doesn't hide his eye-roll or the look on his face that shows me how idiotic he thinks I am.

"What?" My heart's pounding so hard and loud that I don't think I'll be able to hear his reply.

"You could never disappoint me." He puts a hand on my thigh and squeezes. "But don't you ever fucking undersell yourself to me ever again. Do you hear me?"

I can only manage a nod.

"I don't care if you're the worst person; you make people believe the opposite. This world is filled with simple-minded and lazy thinkers. You gotta tell them what they know."

"Is that, like, your own brand of religion? Edwardism?"

Another smile. Just for me. "Fuck Buddha."

It's in these rare moments, when he's easygoing and has his guard down with me, that I find it really hard to reconcile Esme's opinion of him with what I know. Somewhere, there was a split, and Edward chose to show a side of himself to them that was dishonest. They, not knowing any better, took it as face value.

I have to ask.

"Something that Jasper's parents said yesterday has been really bothering me."

His chewing slows down. "What she say?"

I laugh, because he's not pulling any punches. He already knows.

"She says you're too mature and dangerous to be dating me."

That's merely the Cliff's Notes.

He jerks his head back. "Jasper told her you and I are dating?"

I glare at him. "Aren't we?"

He sees that I'm pissed, and for the very first time, he backpedals so quickly that he's stuttering.

"Of course we are, Bean. Jesus. I'm just…" He rubs the back of his neck, an anxious tick, and debates with himself for a moment before letting out a long, defeated sigh. "Jasper and I agreed not to involve me in the mix when you went to meet his folks."

"Oh."

I understand immediately and completely. My relationship with Jasper alone can be seen as wrong or taboo because of my age. Adding another person to it just shoots it out of the freaking water. It was easier to ease Esme and Carlisle into it slowly.

"He stuck with that plan until Alice showed up and told them," I say.

He doesn't recognize the name at first, but when he does, his eyes go black. "Why in the fuck was Brandon there?"

It now occurs to me that neither Jasper nor I told Edward about the shitstorm of a meeting with the parents. We just got so wrapped up in saying goodbye that it just kind of slipped our minds.

So I go into the whole story, from beginning to end, and each time I speak of her, Edward gets more pissed. The hate he has for my ex-friend is growing exponentially. When I tell him how she called me a whore and said I don't deserve my guys, he goes somber.

That's never a good thing with him.

"Esme and Carlisle stood up for me, though." I place my hand over his tightly clenched fist and pray to God he doesn't retaliate. "They support us."

But he doesn't hear the silver lining, only focusing on the disaster.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. You can't let these people around here treat you like you're less than them. Who the fuck are me and Jasper? Huh?" Edward speaks low and clear, like he's determined for me to absorb it. "You're better than both of us."

"I don't believe that," I say and immediately look down at my hands, _my_ anxious tick.

Edward puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head back up until I'm staring back into his eyes.

"You should."

I smile, and when the air between us gets too thick and uncomfortable, I change the subject back to a common hate. "Good news is that you don't have to worry about Alice anymore.

"Why? Did you kill her?"

My jaw drops a little, and he smirks.

This is him joking. I think.

"Promise me you won't."

"There are bad people in this world that want to do good for the people they love," he says. He lifts his hand to sweep my hair off my shoulders but stops himself. He scratches his chin instead. "Even if that means killing what hurts them."

Where Jasper sees an infinite world of colors, Edward only sees what's black and white, the bottom line of a contract. Killing for him was a part of his life in the war. It was nothing more than just a daily occurrence and senseless necessity. He's carried that same ideology over here to the states. That's just one switch he can't turn off.

But that doesn't make him a bad man and certainly not dangerous, especially not to me. I just don't understand why the one person he might consider a mom thinks the absolute worst of him.

"So what happened between you and Esme?"

"She believes my tendency for violence is going to affect her golden boy."

"How?"

Jasper isn't a follower, by any means. If anything, he'll persuade people to believe as he does.

"I'm going to end up in one of two places: jail or dead. She doesn't want him getting caught in the crosshairs."

My heart stops as an image of my guys getting into a situation with bad people and things ending where my side loses.

"But you would never allow that to happen," I say, but even I doubt my own voice. The truth is simple and terrifying: their weed business is illegal and doesn't offer any guarantees. "Right?"

"I'm willing to take all the risks to protect you both," Edward says. "But with my history and the things I've done, I understand why she feels the way she does."

"You were fighting for your country. It's insane logic to hold that against you."

"That's not the reason."

"Is it about that guy you beat up?"

Edward wavers, his head lolling from side to side. "To name a few, but I think it's when I bashed my therapist's head into the wall that solidified her opinion of me. Yeah. That's probably what sealed the deal for her." He crouches to get a better look at my face to see if I'm reacting to his news.

I'm not.

Honestly, I've wanted to bash my therapist's face into the wall plenty of times myself. It's understandable.

But I sense there's more to the story.

"Have you ever put Jasper in danger?"

"No," he says. "I kept my shit far away from him."

"But Esme's doesn't see that."

"She sees what I'm capable of. I shouldn't be trusted, not with Jasper and definitely not with you."

Now here's the epitome of Edwardism and how he believes in his own self-hatred and indoctrination. It's ironic. Through all his brute honesty with people, he lies to himself daily. I've dismissed that lie as bullshit and never took his coldness at face value, because good or bad, Edward's mine. He's my savior and one of the biggest loves of my life. I won't be a lazy thinker and have him put his own narrative into my thoughts.

"How do you do that?"

I blink a few times, slightly confused. "Do what?"

"Look at me like he does."

There's no affection in his tone; it's more accusatory than anything else. It's almost like he can't believe that even one person can look at him without judgment, let alone two. I'm not sure how to respond to that.

The truth, I guess.

"I'm just looking at you."

Edward grips me by the neck with both hands and pulls me to his forehead, pressing mine to his firmly. "And you're seeing everything."

**(0)(0) **

When I dropped out of school, I naively thought my guys would let me coast for a while, but that's the furthest thing from the truth. Jasper set me up with online classes to get my GED before he left, and now there's a stack of books in the mail for me. Edward's a genius in his own right and tutors me on subjects. Shit. He seems to know more than most teachers I've come across.

But my life doesn't start and end with school. Oh, no.

Edward has me on a strict schedule. It's basically boot camp.

He gets me up at 0500 to take a shower. We have breakfast at our favorite beach cafe by 0645. By the time 0730 rolls around, we're in his Camaro, cruising up the PC and looking for a greenhouse to buy.

Around noon, we're at the beach, smoking up a bowl and eating at a small very delicious taco shop on the boardwalk. Or is it eat first and then smoke a bowl…?

Shit. I got that stoner memory: foggy with the details but elaborate in things that don't matter.

This has been my life for four weeks. It's easy to get used to, and for the most part, I love it.

Today, though, Edward's switched up our schedule and has caved under Jasper's pressure to go see a property this guy named Emmett found a few months back. Originally, Emmett had basement space under his smoke shop, but lamps can get expensive and there wasn't enough square footage. Jasper told him thanks but no thanks. Fast forward, this guy came across a stellar house on the beach, and Jasper was instantly interested. Edward won't hear of it, though. He doesn't know the guy and refused to even speak with him.

But after all our failed luck, and with Jasper's graduation nearing, there was no other choice.

"But he won't even tell you the price, man," Edward says to Jasper over the phone. "That's fucking suspicious."

"_I trust him_."

We're leaning up against the Camaro in a Ralph's parking lot, waiting for this guy to show up. I'm standing close for the warmth of my guy's body heat to hear their conversation, but it's also unnecessary. Edward's partially deaf. The doctor cleared him after the IED explosion, but from time to time, he'll complain about the ringing in his ears. He has to turn the volume up all the way to hear our guy's soft voice.

"You trust everyone," Edward says.

"_Emmett's a stand-up guy. I know him. He's not going to hustle us. If you don't like the place or like what's he's offering, then walk away. Can you do that much for me_?"

"Yeah. Fine." He holds the phone out to me. "You two drive me nuts."

I smile at Edward as I turn the volume down, not wanting to damage my own eardrums. "Hey, babe."

"_Hey, my beautiful lotus. How are you_?"

It's been less than twenty-four hours since we've spoken, but I feel like I haven't heard his voice in years. It's the warmest, most comforting, and most honeyed sound in this world. My chest tightens with how much I miss him.

"I'm good," I say, biting hard on my bottom lip to combat the emotion wanting to rip its way out of me. "How's school going?"

"_Pretty miserable._"

My grin gets wider, but I feign sympathy. "Awww. I'm sorry to hear that."

"_Bullshit_," he says with a laugh.

"No, in all seriousness, I miss you and hate that you're gone, but I don't want you to be miserable if it's not going to get you home sooner. That's just sadistic."

"_Shit isn't the same here. I miss the fun I used to have before you._"

"Um, wow. Thanks?" I say, a little—no, a lot—hurt by that comment.

"_No. Fuck! That's not what I mean, Bean. Damn it_." He mumbles and cusses to himself. I can literally see him panicking, trying to pull out his hair. "_I can't think about anything else but you, and I hate that I'm here. All I want is to be home. I just miss the simplicity of having one focus in life and nothing else. Do you know what I'm saying_?"

"Maybe." I peek up at Edward, but he's too busy glaring people down if they glance our way. He's not listening to my side of the conversation. "I guess, sometimes, I miss my life before you."

My heart didn't ache. I didn't always think about one person to the point of driving myself mad. Before he came swooping into my life with those damn eyes and smile, I was blissfully unaware of my own unhappiness.

"_I'm trying to do as many courses here on campus but also looking into things I can do online. It might set me back a few months with my degrees, but I'd be home that much sooner, too_."

"You make it really hard for me to be selfless here."

"_It's not about being selfless or selfish, Bean; it's about us and what we need to do to make this pain go away._"

"Look, it's March and spring break is next week. Then after that, it's a month and half to graduation, right?"

"_Two and a half months_."

I groan. "You don't have to correct me on everything."

"_Sorry._"

"We can handle the two and a half months. I refuse to let you derail your plans to appease me."

I'm lying my ass off, of course. If I were being truthful, I'd tell him to come home now. Fuck school. Who needs it? He and Edward are both smart enough to get their business going. What's a degree gonna do?

But I don't because I love him more than I love myself. God help me. I can wait for him.

"_And what if I say it's to appease me_?"

"I'd say you're a better drug dealer than you are a liar."

He laughs. "_Yeah, yeah_."

Edward whistles and nods ahead. I glance up and see a black BMW driving up.

"Emmett's here. I gotta go," I say.

"_All right, baby. I love you."_

"I love you, too."

"_Take pictures and text me later about the house_."

"Okay, I will. Um, Edward wants to talk to you." I pass the phone over.

"You giving me full reigns on this deal?" he asks.

I try to listen to Jasper's response, but I remember I forgot to turn up the volume. Edward seems to have no problem hearing now.

"Jesus, man. I'll be cordial to the guy, all right?" he says and hangs up. "Fuck."

I don't ask what was said. I know better.

Edward turns to me as the car comes to a stop. "If I tell you to do something, do it."

"I'm not going to defy you," I say and roll my eyes.

He taps me on the nose and smiles. "You just did."

A car door closes and pulls us out of our bubble. I rip my eyes from Edward to assess our company, and I'm immediately stunned, slack-jawed and everything.

The guy's _huge_. He's taller than both my guys and outweighs them by probably forty pounds. He's got head-to-toe tattoos, colorful and crashing.

The most striking thing about him is his dark, wavy black hair that's set against his golden-hazel eyes.

I can't help but think of one person: Rose

"Holy shit. Cullen? Is that you?" Emmett boasts loudly, making a beeline toward Edward with his arms outstretched.

"McCarty? I didn't think I'd see your ass again." They hug and pat each other's back. Edward pushes him away before Emmett's through; intimacy makes my guy nervous. "Jesus. I thought you were just another burner friend of Jasper's. He never mentioned the guy he knew was a SEAL."

"Yeah, well, he didn't know. I did one semester at Berkeley four years ago and then went straight into training. I didn't contact him until late last year, and by that time, I was too wrapped up in the fucking chronic."

"How's the leg?" Edward crouches, and Emmett lifts up his pant leg. There's a prosthetic in place of where his skin should be.

"Titanium steel," he says, almost proudly.

"Nothing but the best."

I'm off to the side, standing on my own and unsure of what to do or say. I feel lost.

"Who's this?" Emmett asks, nodding towards me.

Edward waves me forward. "This is Bella."

I smile nervously and hold out my hand. "Nice to meet you."

He shakes it but squeezes me hard before releasing. "Likewise, pretty lady."

The guy's a flirt, most definitely, but harmless. I don't feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

It's Edward who puts a halt to his ogling eyes by slapping him hard on the back. "How about we go see this property?"

**(0)(0)**

I push "Ignore" on my phone again, and Rose's call goes straight to voicemail. After nearly five minutes of her ranting and flailing, I finally get the buzz of a new message. The girl's probably losing her damn mind over the picture I just sent her of Emmett. I got him at the right angle: standing in the middle of the room with his arms over his chest, biceps bulging, veins everywhere, with a megawatt smile and deep dimples.

My phone lights up in my hand and displays the last of several messages from her.

**OMG! You bitch. How can you send that pic to me and not give me the details? You need to call me ASAP. **

I laugh but quickly stifle it when two sets of eyes pan to me. It was silent up until then. Edward's been deep in thought, weighing the cons and possible cons, while Emmett's tried to distract himself with his phone. That's why he didn't see me snap his picture.

"How much did you say again?" Edward asks.

"Five grand a month," he replies, but behind the confidence in his answer, there's nervousness.

If my guy doesn't like the price, Emmett has very little chance of selling the place**. **It's twenty years old, a decent-size home, single story with a deck, but really rundown. It wouldn't take much money to update it. The problem is that it's extremely difficult to get to. High up on a cliff with the back facing a mountain, there's no driveway or yard to speak of. There's no curb appeal whatsoever, and from 10:00 to 4:00, it gets the optimal amount of UV ray sunshine. It's simply stunning. It would be perfect for Jasper's plants. I can see it all, but Edward doesn't think like me or Jasper. We're the dreamers, only seeing the very best, not what's reality. That's all Edward sees.

The five hours of sun is an issue, and he's calculating all the extra lamps he'll need to buy to sustain them.

"That's steep," he says, but I can see he's leaning more toward yes than no.

At the end of the day, it's the best one we've seen, and we've seen a lot.

"It's a good price for this area. I could ask for a lot more, but I know Jasper needs the space, and I'm willing to cut him some slack," Emmett says. He strolls so confidently, with absolutely no limp in his swagger.

I do the unthinkable and respond to Rose's text with a video of her guy and my guy doing a deal.

"What did he promise you in return?" Edward asks. His face is severe, and his tone is suspicious.

"Christ, Cullen." Emmett laughs and goes to punch Edward in the shoulder, but quickly thinks better of it. "This is me we're talking about. I don't fuck over friends."

"What did he promise you?"

Emmett rubs his pierced brow and says under his breath. "Half an ounce a week."

"Half an ounce a week?!" Edward flips his shit. "For free?!"

Emmett shrugs. "It's a business deal and completely open for negotiation."

Edward opens his mouth to refute him but stops when he notices Emmett wincing in pain. There's a switch flipped in my guy, and his demeanor changes into a more sympathetic one.

"You still getting the phantom pain?" he asks.

Emmett nods. "Wakes me up every fucking night."

Edward looks at me, and I give him a weak smile. We both get why Jasper offered up that much. Emmett needs it more than anybody.

"Let's make it forty-two grams every two weeks and you lower the price to $3,500 a month," Edward says and holds out his hand. "But you can't sell the shit on the side. If I find out you're hustling my generosity, you're done."

Emmett doesn't even hesitate to think about it and shakes Edward's hand. "You got yourself a deal."

I press stop and send the video.

**(0)(0)**

"_So what's his story_?" Rose asks.

I'm sitting on the futon at home, trying to roll a joint and listen to her ramble on at the same time. Edward left an hour ago to deal the last bit of Kush Jasper brought home for Christmas. I wanted to ride along with him, but he said it was too dangerous. Maybe next time.

"Jasper knew Emmett around Laguna in passing, but they really started hanging out together at Berkeley. I guess Em was taking political science." I light up my joint and inhale as deep as my lungs will allow before blowing it all out and coughing. I can hear Rose rolling her eyes. She tells me I smoke too much.

"_What the hell is political science_?"

"Em told me his parents pressured him to be a lawyer, but he didn't want to be a suit guppy, so he applied for some bullshit classes at Berkeley to make them happy. He quit after the first semester and entered the Navy."

"_Is this guy a SEAL_?"

"As a matter of fact," I say, and she exhales like she's coming. I laugh. "Do I need to let you go?"

"_Bitch, you better not hang up on me_."

I laugh harder. "Then stop orgasming."

"_The Navy SEAL thing is how he knows your other guy, Edward, right_?"

"Yeah. They were in the same squad together over in Iraq."

I don't tell her Emmett was one of Edward's guys that was injured in the IED explosion. He says it could've been his life and not his leg he lost. Emmett's a happy-go-lucky kind of kid. He sees his misfortunes as luck.

"_I gotta meet him_."

"How?" I take another deep hit and grunt out the obvious. "The dude lives here, and you live there."

"_Spring break's next week, and this guy I'm dating can swing for the plane ticket_."

The joint falls out of my mouth and into my lap. I squeal a little as the cherry touches my skin, and then I rub it out in the ashtray. I'm high as fuck, but Rose has my full attention.

"Okay, first of all, I'm not going to mention how fucked up you are for only coming to see me when there's a new dick you want to ride."

"_It's not only because of that, B_," she argues—lamely, I might add.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Rose. And second of all, you're going to hustle this guy you're dating to pay for your plane ticket so you can hook up with some other guy?"

Nothing but silence.

"That's…" I throw my arms up in the air and sigh. "Just get your fucking ass up here. I miss you."

"_I miss you, too, Bellarina. I'll try to come up this weekend, okay? Hey! You can teach me how to surf_."

"Yeah. I don't think so. Your tits are too big. You'd topple over." My eyes catch movement as the front door opens. Edward comes in with his face and shirt all bloodied up. "Rose, I gotta go."

I drop my phone and rush to intercept him before he disappears into the bedroom.

"Oh, my God, Edward. What happened?" As I get closer to him, I see that his face is perfectly clear, maybe a slight cut on his left eye, but practically as flawless as he left. The white shirt he's wearing is splattered in varying degrees of dried blood, from the reddest and newest to the oldest and fading tinged brown. I'm confused until I see the bat in his hand. "What did you do?"

"It's nothing, Bean," he says and pushes past me to go into the room.

It doesn't look like nothing.

I see the pistol in the back of his waistband. "Did you...?"

How do you ask your boyfriend if he's killed someone?

Luckily, Edward's in sync with my thoughts and fills in the blank to answer my question.

"I just roughed the guy up a little bit." He wipes the bat off with the towel and throws it into the wastebasket.

I take a step into the bathroom but stop when his eyes bore into me through the mirror.

"He'll live," he finally says.

I'm shell-shocked more than anything. Even the few years growing up in a house with Charlie as a cop, I never saw him come home bloodied or disheveled. All his uniforms were crisp and clean. This visual is very new.

"This is why I told you to stay home," he says.

The water splashing in the sink awakens me, and I'm able to process things at a faster pace.

"But you're okay?" I take a hesitant step into the room. He turns to face me. The slit on his eye is about one inch long, bleeding slightly but unlikely to need stitches. I reach up to touch it, and he flinches. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's all right." He grabs my hand and brings it back up to his face. "It doesn't hurt."

But he grimaces as my fingers gently go across the cut and smear the red. I don't know why I'm so fascinated by his blood. It should repulse me.

"The guy you roughed up did this to you?"

"The asshole sucker punched me in the jaw before taking this shot," he says, but he seems more disappointed that the guy got in one on him, let alone two. "That'll never happen again."

"I'm sorry," I say and take another, more confident step until I can feel his breath on my face.

He rests his hands on my hips, trying really hard to keep me at a distance, but he's unable to stop himself from pulling me deeper into him. "You smell good."

I stand up on my tip-toes to press my mouth against his. "And how do I taste?"

He licks his lips and hums. "Like you're mine."

The way he says those words, talking as rough as he does and looking as rough as he does, all fucking _Fight Club_ and shit, makes me all weak in the knees.

I kiss him again, but this time, I linger, tasting his lips with a sweep of my tongue. There's a hint of weed and spearmint gum. The combination's addicting, and I push my body into him more, wanting as much, or perhaps more, as he'll allow me to take.

He curses under his breath, deepening the kiss before spinning me around and lifting me up on the bathroom counter. My legs are pushed apart by his hips as he pushes his way to me. I've got my fingers in his hair, and it's just enough for me to tug on. I fucking love it.

He's untying the strings on the sides of my bathing suit bottoms and pulling them off. My jean skirt is yanked up to my waist. He grabs my knees and slides my ass closer to the edge. He kisses me hard, and the force of his mouth pushes my head back toward the mirror.

I moan against his harsh, unrelenting lips as two of his fingers thrust into me. He's slow at first, curling and touching every inch of me, but as he pulls out, I see the spark ignite in his eyes. I've been claimed by him, and all bets are off.

Any plans he had to be gentle are forgotten.

Keeping a hand on my throat, he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down. I gasp when he pushes himself inside me. He slides in and out with complete ease, because I'm so fucking wet for him. The thrusts of his hips slam against the ledge, shaking the counter and making the toiletries fall over.

I try to sit up to bring his lips back up to mine, wanting and needing to kiss him, but he's got me pinned. Those eyes, so black and feral, never look away from me. He's in a zone, fucking without thinking. I'm overwhelmed by the intensity, somewhere between immense pleasure and sharp pain. It's addicting...

_Fuck__!_

Edward pulls out and grabs his cock, rubbing it between my swollen, slick lips. My hips move with his movement, increasing the pleasure and friction. He tickles my clit with the head, rolling over it, causing my body to tighten. I gulp as he trails it back down and slams into my pussy with one stroke all the way to the hilt. Our skins are flush, but he keeps pushing, trying to feel me deeper.

I squirm as it all becomes too much.

He eases up to relieve the pressure, sliding out of me slow and measured, making sure I'm aware of him the entire time. I'm watching him as he smirks and admires his view. I want to kiss him. I want to be closer to him. I want to feel his heartbeat against my pounding, erratic one. My breath barely catches to say his name, and my chance to have him close is lost. Edward's already tired of the romance and goes back to fucking me faster and harder than ever before.

"Oh, God," I whimper as he hits me deep, a pain shooting across my stomach.

I sit up and grab at him for leverage, but he brushes me off and places his hand on my chest. Pushing me down and back toward the mirror, he keeps me compliant with his mouth, attacking my neck with kisses, sucking and biting. He's the rocky, dangerous surf of Rockpile, where I'm bound to come or drown with no in between. I relax my body and close my eyes, enjoying the ride of his waves.

It's a roll and a crash, taking me under and pulling me up. I listen to his heavy breaths as they become disjointed and ragged with every firm, deep thrust into me. He's chasing his release, as well as bringing mine to a head. I need that extra something to throw me over the edge. When I move to make it happen and my arms skims along his stomach, I'm thrown off my board as the ocean comes to an abrupt stop.

Edward pulls out and drops to his knees in front of me. He yanks me by the ankles and pulls my pussy to his face. I'm confused until his hot, wet tongue pushes against my clit. I'm up and resting on my forearms to connect with his eyes. That's all I'm seeing. God… Being pounded and fucked by his dick is insane, but having him eat me out is something I'll never grow tired of.

"Baby," I say and put my hand on his head, pushing him further into me.

He brings my lips into his mouth. I curse, and my body jerks away from him, wanting to leave because the sensation is overpowering but needing to stay because— Fuck!

Edward knows me well and knows how to make me come at the drop of a hat.

As he continues to lick and suck on my clit, he inserts his fingers into my pussy.

This magnifies everything by a hundred fold. I don't know why or how we discovered it, but this is my golden ticket.

Edward feels the twitch. "Play with yourself."

I nod, shifting my legs up and resting my heels at the edge of the counter. I reach down and take my clit between my two index fingers. I fondle myself as he picks up the pace with his own fingers, shoving and rocking in and out. He puts his tongue on the edge of my clit, licking it gently and aiding my own rub.

"Shit!" My head falls back and hits the mirror.

I can feel it coming on. That buildup is getting stronger, my breathing shorter. Edward's tucked in between my thighs. They're shaking and clamping around him. He just stares back up at me, working harder with his tongue and finger-fucking me to oblivion.

And like that, I come hard.

It flows from my clit, all the way down to my pussy, and shoves it into me until it fades. It's good, but I'm spent. My eyes get droopy, and I could sleep, but Edward isn't finished with me. I'm pulled up by my wrists and aided back to a standing position. He turns me toward the sink and bends me over. My skirt's pushed up even higher, damn near up to my chin, and Edward spreads my legs by wedging my feet apart with a gentle kick. He grips my hips and pulls my ass back. There's no forewarning or even a caress to let me know it's coming. No. He puts his dick back up to my pussy and shoves in. It's wetter than before, with my come and his spit, and he's sliding in and out with ease. I gaze into the mirror to watch his face, but he's looking down, mesmerized by how he fucks me.

He sucks on one of his fingers, lubing it up extra good, and puts it to my hole. He wants to claim me so badly back there. I know he wants to come without pulling out. My guy tests the waters with a little fondling but never any penetration.

Today, he goes for it.

My eyes bug out as he inserts his finger; one at first, slowly and gently. He flicks his eyes to me, reading my face. I give him a nod. It's okay. I'm okay. He nods back, quickly refocusing his gaze on my ass.

Another finger goes in, and it's somewhat uncomfortable but not entirely unpleasant. It feels… different.

The more he fucks me and fingers my asshole, the tighter this sensation in my belly gets. My heart is pounding from nervousness and pleasure. I'm imagining what his cock would feel like. How much would it hurt? But what if it's like this weird, new sensation? Could he make me come that way?

I have to know.

"Fuck me, baby," I grunt out. His eyes meet mine in the reflection. "Fuck me in the ass."

"Jesus." Edward groans and quickly pulls out of me. He comes all over his hand and on my right cheek. He shivers, leaning against me and dropping his head to my lower back. "You just had to go and say that shit."

**(0)(0)**

Today's a rare day. The ocean's abnormally warm for mid–March, and everyone who surfs is out in force. Edward's house is right on the beach, and it doesn't take much coaxing from me to get him out on his board. This is a dream come true for me. I haven't surfed in months, but not only that, I haven't really surfed with Edward. People always say the waves and the feeling of the board change with your partner.

I thought it was a silly thing to say, but it's true.

When I'm by myself, I think and it's relaxing. I forget about all the petty shit. My only focus is me, how my heart beats in sync with the wind.

Then when I surf with Jasper, the whole experience changes. It's fun, carefree. I play and feel upbeat about life. He's the colorful existence in my world and a high I never want to come down from.

Edward's a force to be reckoned with. He's the choppy waves and hectic storm in my life. Even if the ocean is calm, I feel tense and pumped. Everything with him is a competition. We race to catch the first wave and tease each other if we wipe out. Even who ends up cut and bruised the most is a contest between us.

He drives me to be better and stronger.

It's in these times together that we're at ease.

"Would you like to make a wager?" Edward puffs on the joint and passes it over to me.

We're sitting on the beach a few yards away from the house, enjoying the sounds of... everything.

"Sure," I say, and eye him suspiciously. "What's the stake?"

He shrugs. "Nothing big. Maybe dinner."

"Okay." I puff, puff and pass. "The loser eats what the winner cooks?"

He finishes our joint off and laughs. "Not quite. The loser chooses where we eat tonight."

It's odd how lately that's been our biggest problem. You would think food is just food and you eat wherever, but that's so not the case anymore. We can never decide on anything. It usually takes a lot of weed for us to pick a place.

Of course, we drive around for hours looking.

"All right. That's a deal." I shake his hand firmly. "Now what are we betting on?"

Edward points toward the ocean and directs my eyes towards a wobbling surfer. "How long do you think it'll take for him to biff it?"

I study the guy's balance and the position of the nose to the water. It's not looking good, but it's not looking hopeless, either. "Maybe another two minutes. Three tops!"

"Nah. I think he'll eat it in three, two…" And just like that, as Edward says one, the guy goes head first into a wave. The board disappears for a second but reemerges with the surfer. "This shit's too easy."

"I think you cheated." I pout and fold my arms over my chest.

He snorts. "You're a sore loser, Bean."

"I am not!" I smack him hard on the chest, but he doesn't flinch. I'm the only fucking person in this world that can hit him. "All I'm saying is that you set me up."

"What? Bullshit. I saw the guy and guessed he would wipeout. I didn't fucking push him," he says.

I'm really doing this to get a rise out of him. More and more each day, we become partners... and best friends.

"Whatever. I still call cheats," I say.

The guy who cost me everything walks by us with his shoulders slumped and dragging his board.

"Hey, man." Edward reaches out and shakes the surfer's hand. "Don't fucking worry about that shit."

The guy opens his palm and sees a dime bag of weed there. He grins. "Thanks."

"No problem," Edward says.

The surfer walks away, but I can't stop smiling at my guy.

He glares at me. "Oh, Christ, Bean. What?"

"You're such a softy, baby," I tease, rubbing his leg.

"All right." He pushes me away and stands. "We're done here."

It's cute to watch him get embarrassed, but as he gathers up our towels and surf boards, I panic.

"What? Why? We still have a few hours before we have to go pick up Rose from the airport, and I've missed this."

Edward glances down at his watch. "I got some errands to run."

"Baby." He steps away from me as I stand, but I wrap my arms around him and jerk him back. There's no fight in him. Not with me. "I'm the only person who knows, okay?"

Edward shakes his head, refusing to look at me.

I dig my nails into his back to gain his attention. "Hey, asshole."

Those green eyes are light in the sun. He kills me with his stare. "Yes?"

"Are you hearing me?"

"I hear you." He leans down and whispers, "Now listen to me."

I fight against my urge to kiss him. "Okay."

"Get your shit and be ready to go in twenty minutes."

"Okay…" I'm confused. "Are we grabbing some food?"

"No. We're running errands." Errands equal a drug run. He smirks. "I want you to see how much of a softy I am."


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: Hello! I'm back. Let's keep this momentum rolling.**

**Thank you to my pre-reader, Brina, you're super rad. You know that's right.**

**Dee, I heart you, but you know that already. Thank you. **

**And super duper love to my beta, MariahajilE. She works hard and super fast for her writers. I can't even with this lady. She rocks my socks off.**

**Here we go...**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Edward drives ten miles south into Laguna Niguel. It's a residential area and, in a way, very cookie. Wikipedia says it's a low-crime area, which I might believe if there weren't a backpack full of weed in the backseat.

Other than my guy goes three times a week and it usually takes a couple of hours, I don't know much about these errands. Most dealers sell from home, unless the money's worth the hustle, but Edward's not the type to do favors.

I'm just excited to be a part of the run today. It gives me a peek into another side of their world.

"Are we going to someone's house?" I ask.

Edward does a half-shrug but says nothing.

"Okay," I say and turn my gaze towards the window again. I'm fairly familiar with this silent game, and there's no use in trying to get him to talk.

I sit back and enjoy the view, getting brief glimpses of the Pacific from time to time. The streets are clean, and people are out jogging with their dogs. I counted seven golden retrievers and four black Labs.

There's a different vibe here, more family-oriented and less hipster. It's a place one would retire to... and that's when it clicks.

I whip my head around. "You're selling to the senior folk, aren't you?"

Edward smirks.

"And this proves you're a softy?"

I'm dubious, because selling hydro to the elderly and charging them more than their glaucoma medicine isn't a saint-like quality.

It's business.

He stays tight-lipped and switches on the radio as a distractor. These one-way conversations with him are fewer every day, but they're still annoying. I have so many questions and thoughts, and to make me even more suspicious of his motives, he doesn't turn the radio station when Britney comes on.

I pay close attention to our surroundings now. The houses are older, in style but well-kept. I'm convinced he's dealing to the fifty-five-and-older population. There are too many golf courses.

Why he's keeping it a secret is beyond me.

"We're here," Edward says, finally speaking.

I almost forgot what his damn voice sounds like.

"Where's here?" I ask and lean forward.

It's a regular house with a three-car garage and bushes galore. There's nothing spectacular about it, and again, I'm waiting for the big reveal. It's all very anticlimactic.

"Get the backpack," Edward tells me as he gets out.

I sigh with exasperation, loud and dramatically, but do as I'm told.

Meeting Edward at the front of the car, he takes the bag out of my hands and drapes it over his shoulder. He nudges me with his shoulder and nods to the sidewalk on our left, indicating that's where he wants us to go. I follow him up to the door. There's a silver plaque posted that reads Mesquite House.

Edward knocks two times.

A second or two later, an older woman around my mom's age answers.

"Edward, it's good to see you again, but we weren't expecting you today."

Susan T, RN is on the nametag clipped to her purple scrubs.

He taps the backpack. "I forgot something yesterday."

"Ahh." She nods and steps to the side. "Well, she'll be very pleased to see you."

I'm playing catch up here. I'm walking into the situation blind, and the pronoun game isn't helping matters.

"We won't be long," he says and gently pushes me forward.

Now noticing my existence, the nurse gives a wide, sincere smile. "You brought a friend."

"This is Bella," he says but doesn't divulge much more.

"Hi, Bella." She shakes my hand as we enter the house. "I'm the nurse, Susan."

"Hi," I say quickly. I'm trying not to lose pace with Edward, but he's halfway down the hallway and isn't waiting for me. "What is this place?"

Susan must think I'm messing with her because she answers my question slowly. "We're a care home for Alzheimer's patients."

"And Edward knows somebody here…" My words trail off as we round the corner and I see my guy crouched in front of an elderly woman in a wheelchair.

Neither one of them is speaking to the other, but even from this distance, I can see the love coming from her eyes. They're the familiar and intense green I get lost in daily.

"Beth loves it when Edward visits," Susan says. "Even if she has no idea who he is."

He's so rough and hard-looking in comparison to her fragile, petite, and unassuming presence, but just watching them, I'm in awe of how much they're in sync with one another.

"Beth is…" God, it's so awkward and embarrassing to ask, but I wasn't properly prepared. "Is she family?"

Susan—God bless her—doesn't look at me like I'm an idiot. Instead, she takes pity on me and responds sympathetically. "Edward is Beth's grandson. He comes and sees her two to three times a week."

I glance around and slowly put the pieces together. "Beth has Alzheimer's?"

"Vascular dementia," she corrects, but it's all Chinese to me.

Edward slips the backpack off his shoulder and opens the front pouch. I expect him to pull out weed, but he takes out a pair of gardening gloves. Beth laughs, placing both her hands on his face and kissing his forehead.

Susan echoes my sigh. "He's so sweet to her."

"Yeah" is all I can say.

Susan watches them with me for a few more minutes until she has to leave to answer a call light. I want so badly to meet Edward's grandma, but I don't want to interrupt them. I'd feel like I was intruding on their private moment.

So, I stand there, awkwardly switching from foot to foot, saying hello to patients and nurses as they roll by me.

Edward notices the nearby dining area gathering for lunch and glances behind him in search for me. I wave at him when our eyes meet.

"Come here," he says.

Wiping my sweaty palms down the sides of my jeans, I take a deep breath and go over to them.

Beth smiles up at me. "Who's this lovely girl, Masen?"

"This is a friend of mine, Nana," Edward says. "Her name is Bella."

"Friend?" Nana swats him on the arm. "Don't be shy, boy. This beauty is your girlfriend, isn't she?"

I like her.

Edward chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with her. "Yes, ma'am. She's my girlfriend."

"Hello, Beth." I crouch down to get level with her. "It's so lovely to meet you."

"Oh, honey. I'm nobody special to meet," she says with a strong southern twang.

She reminds me of my own grandma, and I'll say about anything to keep her talking. "Well, I don't know about that. You're pretty important to Edward, and that says a lot."

"Edward?" she narrows her eyes and sits away from me. "Does he work at this bank?"

I take a peek over at Edward, and he's giving me a slight shake of his head.

"Yeah, um…" My throat tightens. Oh, fuck. "He, um… He, uh, owns this bank, actually. He wants to thank you for your business."

She's not buying my lie, but trusts Edward—or Masen—and decides to play along.

"I think that's sweet of him, but I don't bank here." Nana glances around me, and like an idiot, I look but see nothing. She has her hands in her lap, tense and curled into tiny, wrinkly fists. "I don't have any of my money here. Someone stole it from me," she says in a whisper, but her agitation soon rises, as does her voice. "I had it in my purse, and now it's gone."

Edward stands and gets behind her wheelchair. "Okay, Nana. How about we go get some lunch?"

She grimaces. "I don't want that food, Masen. It hurts my stomach. Take me home."

"I will, Nana, but you gotta eat something first," he says and pushes her forward.

"Beth! There you are." Susan comes out of nowhere and takes control of the wheelchair. "Come on, honey. It's lasagna day; your favorite."

"I don't have any money to pay for it," Nana says, and her eyes go wide with worry.

"It's on me, okay?" Susan says and wheels her into the dining room.

Beth doesn't argue.

**(0)(0)**

Since they're so short-staffed, Edward and I hang out for another hour to help with patients. It's insane the workload five people are expected to take on. There were four patients on a one-to-one feeding assist, but they were the ones that needed the most attention.

My guy's name is Joe—or Carl, as he likes to be called— and he's a ninety-eight-year-old man with Parkinson's and dementia. A World War II vet, he talks mostly about his days as a soldier and fighting the evils of Hitler, but he refers to his past as the present. I don't like hearing about all the friends he lost, but I do enjoy hearing the stories of his girl, Betty. Carl says she looks a lot like me; a Californian girl with a spitfire attitude and a great set of bongos. She was the love of his life.

Speaking of the love of my lifetime, Edward stays close to Nana but is a hit among the ladies around her. They go out of their way to touch him, flirting and teasing him, trying to get him to smile. He cracks a few times, which gets plenty of cheers, and I watch his neck redden the whole hour from the attention.

It's cute.

After lunch, Nana has group to attend and we have to leave to pick up Rose. Of course, before we leave, Edward does what he does best and sells a few ounces of hydro to the nurses and tech staff. He makes a killing, too. It's never his main reason to visit here, but it helps keep him motivated to come often. Life gets busy, and people get too wrapped up in their own shit. Weed is what bridges the gap between him and his sick Nana.

Another pro added to Jasper's growing list of why his Kush saves lives.

"Why does she call you Masen?" I ask as we get into the car.

"It was my uncle's name. He died in a car crash when he was twenty-four."

"And she thinks you're him?"

Edward bobs his head.

The nurses were telling me that patients with Alzheimer's and dementia tend to regress back to their younger years or at times they were most happy.

These times with my guys are what I'd always go back to.

I put my hand on his and squeeze. "You know…" I begin.

He barely glances over at me. "What?"

"Showing me this only furthers my belief that you're a huge softy."

"And you're going to keep this shit between us." He revs the engine, making it clear I have no option but to agree to his terms.

"Of course, but who would I tell? Jasper?" I laugh. "Yeah, okay. He already knows everything about you."

"He doesn't know this."

I recoil away from him like he's a hot flame. "Are you serious?"

"Yep."

Yep? Yep. _Yep_.

That's all he says. Are you fucking kidding me?

How can he drop this bomb on me?

I... can't... even…

"Why me?"

Edward half sighs and groans. "Because I wanted you to meet her."

"I know... I just…" Fuck! Why's he making me all tongue-tied? Why can't I ever say what I mean? "But why wouldn't you tell Jasper about Nana?"

"He knows enough," he says and takes his eyes off the road to put them on me. Traffic whips by us, weaving in and out of our lane, but the Camaro's tires stay on a straight path. "This was just for you, Bean. It's our secret, okay?"

I nod fervently until my head hurts.

"Besides," he says. "When shit goes south and people start getting killed by me, I can at least die knowing that the one girl I loved knew me as more than just some cold bastard."

**(0)(0)**

I don't pull an assholery move like Charlie and pick up my loved one at the curb. I also don't go to baggage claim. No, I go straight to the arrivals, just outside security, and wait anxiously for twenty minutes before her plane lands. It's been eight long months since I've seen my girl. That's a fucking lifetime considering we used to see each other daily. If it weren't for my guys keeping me busy, I would've gone crawling home within a month in Laguna or maybe talked her into moving here. It wouldn't be that hard, either. Rose is a hippy and a vagrant at heart. She needs constant movement. She'd die if she were to stand still for two seconds.

I know once she gets the feel of Laguna, she'll never want to leave.

Then, through the hordes of people walking my way, I see her blonde head bobbing up and down. My excitement's getting harder and harder to contain. The scream that wants to burst out of me is bottled in my throat. I'm on my tippy tiptoes, trying to gain some height to see above the crowd. As the sea of travelers disperses, it opens a direct view to my girl. She's got her hair pulled up into a messy bun and is wearing the typical Arizona attire: jean shorts and an oversized ASU sweater.

Rose screams and runs towards me. "_Bella!_"

I let my own excitement rip out of me and bound toward her.

We collide and hug each other so tight. It's ridiculous; we're both sobbing and laughing. People are probably staring, but I don't give a shit. I've haven't seen this bitch in forever and have forgotten how she puts too much of her Heavenly perfume on. I'm sneezing and have a sinus headache because of its overwhelming smell, but I've missed it all the same.

"Shit. Let me look at you," Rose says with a sniff. She puts me at arms' length and shakes her head. "Blonde? Really? What about all those times you talked that 'proud to be brown' bullshit, huh?"

I laugh and shrug. "I'm still brown where it counts."

She snorts, immediately pulling me back into a hug. "You're such a dirty slut."

I'm not sure how long we stand there in the middle of the terminal in everyone's way, maybe five minutes or an hour, but it's Edward who gets bored of standing around.

He clears his throat and tugs on my shirt. "Bean, we need to move out."

"Move out," Rose repeats with a giggle. "I gotta meet this Sailor of yours."

I already envy her for knowing what to call him. My dumb ass made the mistake and called him a soldier the first time we met.

"Rose," I say, putting my arm around her neck and turning toward my guy. "I'd like you to meet Edward."

She smiles wide and holds out her hand to him. "Nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Yeah." He nods his head but doesn't shake hands. "Let's go."

"Um…" Rose glances at me as Edward stomps off toward baggage claim. "Did I say something to piss him off?"

"Give him time. He'll warm up," I say but pull her close, whispering a forewarning into her ear. "Just don't call him Eddie again. He'll fucking kill ya."

She laughs like I'm joking, and I don't tell her I'm not.

**(0)(0)**

On the ride home, I think Edward is at his wit's end. He's never seen this hyper side of me. I can't seem to stop it, either. Whenever Rose and I get together, we talk loudly and in incomplete sentences nonstop. It's involuntary, like breathing. She takes me back to the Bella I was in Arizona; the thief and con artist who talks fast to distract a person from her roaming hand while thinking about what article of their belongings she's gonna swipe for herself.

Shit. I'm not even jonesing for weed, even though Edward is puffing anxiously besides me on a joint. He's seeking a semblance of calm because of the chaos of two teenage girls that surrounds him in such a confined space.

My poor guy. He had no idea what he was getting himself into with me.

I just hope he doesn't drive us off a cliff.

"Oh, my God. So I didn't tell you, did I? I saw Marcus the other day," Rose says in the middle of her sentence about giving her guy a BJ in public and almost getting caught by the police for, like, the hundredth time this year.

"Marcus?" It takes a moment to remember that name. "Holy shit! You did? Where? What happened? Was he still suckling on his mom's tit?"

Rose cackles. "Uh, no, and ew. Why did you ever date that loser and give your fucking V card to him?"

Edward whips his head toward me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye, but I don't look directly at him. She had to go and open her big fat mouth, didn't she? This is gonna be a non-conversation later with him. I'll be doing most of the talking.

"I liked him, okay?" I say. In a way, I don't regret my choice. My virginity wasn't something I felt a deep attachment to, and at the time, I believed it was going to the right guy. "Anyway, that shit's in the past. Now tell me. Where did you see him?"

"Okay," Rose says, excitement building behind her dark blue eyes. She perches herself up between the two front seats. "I was at Fashion Square in the Neiman Marcus store. Ha! How funny is that?"

I roll my eyes and wave her to get on with it. "Focus, Rose."

"Okay. Okay. So there I am, browsing for my next purchase…" she says with a wink and an arm nudge. "…and he walks in with this chick."

I gasp and whisper a "holy fuck". "He's got a chick?"

"And not just any chick, either."

"Oh, I don't like the way you said that." I'm cramping in my stomach as the urge to vomit forms.

"Didyme."

My body tenses as fury rages in me. "He's dating Stacy Didyme? Are you joking?"

This girl was in my science class and was considered one of the popular girls. She harassed me constantly about dating Marcus and went as far as to call me a slut when I lost my virginity to the guy. This bullying went on for months and months. I was dreading going back in the fall until my mom decided to ship me off to Charlie. I'm not the type to really care about what people say to me, especially when I know it isn't true, but it was still hard on me to go to school every day with that negativity.

"Nope. And she was all over him. It fucking disgusted me. She's such a tramp," Rose says. God love her; I can see she didn't let them slide with just a glare.

"What did you do?"

"I fucking punched her."

Edward laughs.

We both look at him in shock, but he doesn't flinch or acknowledge us and just keeps on driving. Maybe it was a collective hallucination.

So I keep Rose talking. "Did you really?"

"Damn right I did. After all the shit she pulled? I went up to her and clocked her. Didn't even break a nail, either."

"What did she say? What did he do?"

"Marcus didn't say or do shit. He's got a bigger pussy than Sherry. She didn't know who I was and kept asking, 'Why? Why? I don't even know you.' So I pulled out my phone and showed her a picture of you and me. Her eyes busted out of her skull. It was so funny. I told her, 'You fuck with my family, you fuck with me.' I wanted to cunt-punch her to prove my point further, but security got involved and escorted me out."

"Oh, Rose…" I'm shaking my head and laughing. I'm so bloody proud of my girl.

"And wanna know the best part?" She grins and holds up her wrist that's adorned with a Gucci red diamond watch. "They forgot to check my pockets."

**(0)(0)**

Shortly before we get home, Rose complains that she's hungry, so we stop at Tacos Loco. I show her the ways of eating and drinking in Laguna. Edward buys us a couple Longboard beers on the secret, but it also helps to convince the server to break the rules when Rose takes off her sweater and showcase her ample assets. I'm grateful either way. It's fucking heaven with the fish tacos.

The best part of everything is witnessing my best friend fall in love with Laguna right before my eyes. She's so enamored by the ocean; the sound of the waves and the alluring aroma of the salty air. All these months, I've been telling her about this place and how it changes you, but she didn't believe me.

You really have to experience it firsthand to truly understand how it captures your heart and soul.

Rose treads more lightly with Edward. The Eddie name goes and stays gone. She doesn't ask him personal questions. Everything stays on the surface. What he enjoys most is when she tells stories about me. I can see he's really interested, even though he looks distracted on the outside, but he hears everything. I'm more at ease and confident they'll get along. They won't be the best of friends, but with time and maybe a bowl of Kush, they'll tolerate each other.

"You live right on the beach?" Rose gasps. Her face is pressed up against the window of the car.

It's now after 4:00 in the afternoon, and Edward earlier insisted we needed to get home. I didn't ask why or what the hurry's all about; I just assumed he had a buyer coming over.

"Pretty rad, huh?" I say with a dreamy sigh. It's crazy how stupid lucky I am. Every morning I wake up to the waves crashing against the surf.

"I was fucking jealous of your ass for living in Snottsdale, but this, Bella... It's…" She winds up her arm and punches me in the shoulder. "You suck."

"Bitch!" I unbuckle my belt and attempt to climb over the seat.

"Bean! Jesus Christ!" He grasps onto the back of my shorts and pulls me back. "Sit down."

I glare at Rose. "We'll continue this later."

She glares back. "Come at me, bro."

Edward reaches over and buckles my belt. "I'm not high enough for this shit."

Rose and I break into laughter. He's forced to play the adult with us, something he definitely didn't sign up for.

"Sorry," she says.

"Me, too," I say and rub his leg. "We'll be good."

He scoffs. "I'll probably kill you both first."

"Aww. You see, Bella? Your guy can make jokes," Rose says and sits back in her seat.

I give Edward a sly smile. "Yeah. Totally."

Luckily for my guy's sanity, the car's quiet for the remainder of the ride home. It's the only reprieve he'll get this weekend.

As we pull into the sloped driveway, I see an electric blue Bronco parked in front. My heart's miles ahead of my brain, because she's pounding out of my chest while my head sits there in confusion. When it does catch up, my body reacts, bursting out of the car and running up to the house. All I can hear is his name over and over and over with every breath I take and pound of my feet against the ground. It's getting more erratic as I get closer to the door.

Then, like a blast of fresh air, he steps out onto the porch and everything goes quiet. The world stops spinning. Time is still, irrelevant.

I don't even see him as I jump into his arms and wrap my whole body around him. He holds me up with one arm around my back and a palm on my ass. I'm burying my nose into his neck and inhaling him in.

God, he smells so good and so much the same. It makes my heart ache.

He chuckles. "Hi, baby."

That sound is fucking music to me.

I grin from ear to ear and snuggle into his embrace. "Keep talking."

And he does, a low and seductive murmur, but I don't even hear most of what he says, just the words "lips" and "kiss."

"Yes," I whisper.

He leans back to find my mouth and puts his words into action. The kiss is tender, and his lips are warm, delicious. I've forgotten how plump and full they are. My need for him amplifies. I push myself up into his arms to get more leverage and deepen the kiss. Moving my hands up his shoulders, I slide up to intertwine my fingers into the wispy hairs on his neck underneath his dreads.

But I encounter soft curls.

_What?_

It doesn't make sense. So I go further into his hair, expecting to come in contact with tight, coarse braids, but there's still just more bouncy, soft, and velvet fucking hair.

"Jasper?" I ask nervously, unsure as all hell of who I'm kissing. I open my eyes and see his gorgeous, ocean blue eyes staring back at me. I pull back to get a full look at him, and it's stunning. "Your dreads? You... took them out?"

He sets me on the ground as his cheeks flame to a bright red. "Yeah. About that…"

It makes him look so different. There's more blond than before. The curls are a mess and keep getting into his eyes. He pushes them back with his hands.

I'm falling hard.

"I can't tell you how much…" I reach up and grab two fistfuls. It's silky between my fingers. "I _fucking_ love this."

"Yeah?" He smiles, leaning forward as I yank him down. "I hoped you would."

We kiss briefly again, whispering how much we love and missed each other.

It only ends when Rose does her typical, semi-awkward whistle.

"Oh, shit!" I snap to attention and turn to face her. "Hey. So, yeah. This is Jasper, my other guy."

She smirks. "Yeah. I couldn't tell with all the face-sucking."

I could kill her right now for being such an asshole.

"Hello, Jaspy. I'm Rose or, if you're fancy, Rosalie. " She holds out her hand, and of course, Jasper shakes it.

"It's nice to meet you, _Rosalie_," he says.

"Touché, mister fancy pants. I am totally digging your tattoo, man. What is it?" Rose asks.

"Tattoo?" I glance over at her with disbelief. "Where?"

"On the right side of his neck," she says and points.

"Um…" Jasper hesitates and gives me a shy, bashful smile. "It's a flower."

I tilt my head to see the black ink just below the right ear. It's Hindu with Chinese scripture on each side on top of a weighing scale, which is shaped like an infinity sign with three loops. It sits perfectly leveled; everything is within a balance.

But below all that is a beautiful blooming flower.

But it's not just any flower.

I touch it tenderly with my fingers and whisper, "It's a lotus."


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Hi! Thanks for all the reviews. I do love them so much. It's probably the only reason why I still write. I'm an absolute whore for them. One of these days when I got a free second, I'll reply back. I swear. Love you ladies. Honest engine. **

**Thank you to my pre-reader, Brina, for giving me feedback so quickly. One of these days, I'll join you up in Forks. But honestly, I would rather come out and hangout with you in SoCal. Your town is gorgeous. **

**Dee, my other pre-reader, who's messaging me now by bragging about her vacay-oh, wait! It's her last day/ Some people got it hard *wink, wink* Thank you for everything you do, especially with this story. **

**And to my speedy beta, MariahajilE, dayum girl! You're just so incredible. Listen, you guys, this lady's got her real life keeping her busy, but still manages to get this back to me within a day's time? Seriously! Girl, you're flapping amazing. Don't ever leave me! I love you too much.**

**All right, let's roll a doobie and blaze it up. **

Chapter Twenty-Five

Edward comes back after dropping Rose's bags inside and embraces Jasper in a hug. I stand back with a big grin on my face as my guys reconnect. Their friendship and bond are amazing things to witness. I'm never jealous and demand they pay all their attention to me. They do. I find our relationship a hard thing to put into words. It works without any of us really trying.

Maybe it's the knowledge that we'd be lost without each other.

"Your hair looks good." Edward throws an arm around Jasper's shoulder. "How long have you been here?"

Jasper does the same. "Thanks, man. Only a few minutes. I actually was just about to walk inside when you guys pulled up."

"So you haven't been inside, yet?" Edward takes a quick glance back at me.

I smile when Jasper says no.

Following behind them as Rose follows behind me, they start talking about how the house has been newly decorated.

I did it about two weeks ago. The colors were gone, and without Jasper to liven it up, I needed to add them artificially. It surprised me when I was given the green light. Edward took me out to all the best places in Laguna and didn't flinch when the bill was outrageous.

He, of course, jokingly takes all the credit now.

"You're such a liar," I say and smack him on the back of his head.

Edward shrugs and smiles.

We walk further into the house where a few of my paintings are hanging. Rose doesn't know, but Jasper does. Then he stops abruptly as he notices the plants sitting on the windowsills by the back deck. The majority of them are exotics from the nearby nursery, but the ones he's drawn to are the ones we researched and had imported from China.

He turns to me with amazement. "You remembered?"

I listen to everything that comes out of his mouth, even the insignificant shit he says when he's high. Not too long ago, he'd mentioned Lady Palms and Emerald Bays and how he wanted to fill his home with them. They're babies now, but they'll grow big and strong with Jasper's nurturing.

"Of course," I say.

He holds the sides of my face and pulls me in for a soft kiss. "Thank you."

All I can do is grip his wrists and nod.

I'm barely able to hold my tears in. The love and gratitude he shows me with his lips is always my undoing.

Luckily, Edward intervenes and pulls Jasper outside to talk without having to censor themselves.

Rose is like family to me but still a stranger to my guys. It takes a while to build their trust.

She will... in time.

"Well, they both seem pretty intense," she says.

I force myself to look away from my loves and at her. She's sitting on the futon and flipping through a pipe and bongs catalog. I ordered my firefly glow-in-the-dark Sherlock pipe off the internet a month ago, and they've been sending me that damn magazine ever since.

"I got an idea!"

Before she can ask me what it is, I'm at the front door and going through Jasper's backpack. He promises to bring the good stuff home and never disappoints. My guy's always growing the best strain of weed. He'll create something new, fiercer, and unbelievably smooth... Ah ha!

"There you are," I say as my fingers wrap around a plump baggy.

My eyes go wide as the bunches of Kush with fine purple and orange hairs smile back at me.

"What's that?" Rose asks from the futon.

I stand and go straight for the best bong we own: Gandalf.

***00***

"How does this thing work… exactly?" Rose puts the tip of Gandalf's hat to her lips, but her question isn't about the weed; it's about my relationship with two men.

I'd briefly described it to her over the phone a week or so ago, just to prepare her, but she gave me a lot of "yeah, yeah, yeah" and a bunch of "that's cool" but didn't really listen to me. Things are coming into full view for her now, and that realization that it's not just about me banging two guys separately but simultaneously has her spinning. I don't even think she's digested the part about Jasper and Edward being together together.

"It's a poly relationship, a triad." I reach over to set the purple and orange hairs on fire. "You know, a threesome?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get the concept, but come on, Bella. It's all bullshit, right?"

"Excuse me?" I extinguish the flame and palm the lighter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She leans to the left and gestures behind me. I look back to Jasper and Edward outside on the deck. Only one set of eyes is on me. He catches my gaze and smiles. I smile in return as a reflex, but it quickly fades when Rose says something like, "You see what I'm sayin'."

I can't even hear straight because she's got me so irritated.

"This thing you got going on with them—whatever it is—seems intense and is probably fun for right now, but it isn't something you all can maintain long term." She continues on and on in spite of my hostile glare. "You gotta be realistic."

"I am being realistic."

"No, you're living in a fantasy world. I can see how this place can do that with the ocean, the surfing, and two incredibly hot guys wanting to bone you, but none of it is gonna end how you want it to end."

"How do I want this to end, Rose? Fucking enlighten me."

"You want these guys to marry you."

A sudden coldness hits my core, and it's like she sees right through me.

I shake my head to deny it. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you fucking do. You got this way with Marcus." She says his name like that it explains everything. "The dude was a waster, but you swore up and down you were in love and were going to marry him as soon as you guys got out of high school."

She's not being fair. I was drunk when I said that. What the fuck did I know?

"That lasted about two weeks, and then you got antsy and instigated the breakup, so I'm sorry if I'm not optimistic about your little triad or whatever it is."

She keeps on fucking saying that. Whatever it is.

It's dismissive.

"This isn't whatever; it's a relationship. We're in it together—all three of us."

Rose rolls her eyes. "Okay. But that's right now. What happens down the road when you fall out of love with them, or you realize you love one guy more than other and want to marry him? What if one or both of your guys falls for another girl? Or hell, the way I saw them hugging earlier, they just might ditch you and run off together," she says as a joke.

I'm not laughing.

Yanking the bong across the table away from her and to my mouth, I shakily and hastily light the bowl. It's stoner courtesy to give your guest the first hit, but fuck her. She's lucky I'm still sharing.

The smoke rushes up the tube and fills my lungs. It slowly billows out between my lips and into the air. There's a thick haze separating my view of Rose, but it doesn't mask the tension. It's super obvious to my guys as they come back inside.

"Beeaaaannn, arrrrreeee youuuu okkkkaaayy?" Jasper's voice fades in.

Whoa… Okay... I'm high—like really high, where time and action around me slow way down.

And this is off of one hit. One!

That speaks volumes of this weed, and it's definitely not something Rose should try as a lightweight.

Jasper takes the bong out of my hands and sits next to me on the couch. He keeps asking over and over what happened to me.

Rose's answer is delayed and... deep, but I think she says she doesn't know.

Ha!

My derision comes out as a whimpered sniffle.

Wait.

Why am I'm sobbing?

I get that I'm overly emotionally due to Jasper coming home early, but I've shed those tears already and that can't be why my cheeks are drenched now. Maybe it's this brand new strain of primo-supremo-fucking Kush I'm toking.

"Hey." Jasper snaps his fingers to gain my attention.

I turn to look at him, but the waves are choppy. "Yeah?"

"Did you swipe a baggy from my bag?"

I'm slow to respond. My lips and toes are tingling. "Maybe."

He scans the table to see the remainder of it and groans. "Bean, for fuck's sake. This stuff's potent. It'll fuck up a veteran." That makes sense. I'm still considered a noob to my guys and practically every stoner I've met. "Did she hack?"

Whatever answer he got only confirmed his suspicions.

He chuckles and kisses my temple. "Oh, baby."

"I just wanted to brag about you to Rose." I grip his shirt and fall face first into his chest. "All she ever smokes is schwag."

Jasper's voice is the only one I hear.

"It's cheap weed. Seeds and stems mostly. Most people who don't use on the reg can get high off that, but it's definitely not quality."

Before he came into my life, I thought marijuana was all the same. Dirt weed, mids, or what have you, I'd take a hit and be done and happy. Not anymore. I'm a fucking snob. The only thing I smoke is dank.

And I wanted to share that with my best friend, to show her how smooth it goes down and how amazingly blazed she can get. And for fucking free, too!

Maybe I was trying too hard, but I wanted her to like Jasper. I really wanted her to like Edward. It was important to me she support my relationship with them. No one I truly care about does.

"Okay, I might've said something to her," Rose says.

The haze is lifting but only slightly. I'm able to hear more than just Jasper now.

"Like what?" Edward cracks his knuckles.

It's deafening.

I tilt my head up and peek up at him as he hovers over Jasper. His mouth is set in a hard, straight line, and he's glaring at Rose. That relaxed demeanor from earlier is gone.

Poof.

Vanished.

Knowing her, she'll take offense to his brusque tone and bite back.

My girl doesn't disappoint.

"Like how she's not being truthful to herself about this thing you all have going on. It's really shitty that you guys are fucking toying with her heart. Do you even care about how this will affect her in the end when you guys get tired of her?"

I push myself up from Jasper's chest and do my best to sound coherent. "Don't be a bitch."

She flings herself back onto the futon and does that annoying cross-and-wag thing with her legs. "Fine. I'm a bitch. Whatever. You get fucked over all you want, but don't come crying to me when they break your heart."

It's silent for only a beat, but it drags on for a millennium. The harshest critic of my relationship is my best friend, and it hurts more than I can bear.

And Edward, as closed off as he is to the world, is quite the empath when it comes to Jasper and me. He can't handle seeing our pain, and the only way he knows how to fix it is by snuffing out the cause.

He can't do that with Rose, but he does mentally put her on his Do Not Return list.

That shit's final.

He grips Jasper's shoulder and grunts. "You got this?"

No! He can't leave. It's been too long since I've had both my guys in the same room. I feel whole again. Being together as three is the closest thing to achieving nirvana for me.

I grab his hand before it slips away. He stares down at it, debating whether he should stay or go.

"Stay," I whisper.

"Bean," he pleads. For his sanity and Rose's safety, he needs to go.

But I'll break down more if he does. The tears are already building.

"Sit down, man," Jasper says with a stern gruff. "Rose has legitimate concerns, and we can't ignore that."

Edward doesn't want to budge, but he takes a seat next to me, because he knows Jasper's right.

Staring toward the double doors leading out to the ocean, he refuses to speak or even acknowledge that Rose exists.

To him, she doesn't.

"First thing's first. We need an icebreaker or something to chill our hostile vibe, but not with this," Jasper says as he sets Gandalf on the table furthest from me. He lifts up his hips and reaches into the pockets of his cargo shorts. It's a secret baggy of weed. I grin from ear to ear and wiggle myself closer to his side. He wags his finger at me. "You're cut off, Bean."

Rose laughs. "Addict much?"

I scowl at her. That silences her quick. Bitch knows she's already on my shit list.

"I'll get some beer," Edward says and goes to the kitchen.

Jasper wants to tell him no, but he knows Edward and I both need to be soothed. He responds to Rose's assertion instead. "Marijuana addiction isn't like an addiction to alcohol or any other substance. There's no withdrawal from weed. A person can quit weed and not have a craving for it."

"Bullshit." Edward slips a beer into my hands and sits. I'm sandwiched between my guys, and their heat is radiating off them and into me. It's fucking sublime. "If that were true, we wouldn't have a business."

Rose chokes on her own spit and coughs. "Um… You guys are, like, what? Drug dealers?"

I might've forgotten that little tidbit of information.

Jasper smirks as he packs the pipe I bought for him. It's a blue-purplish galaxy like my board. "Drug dealer is an inaccurate term for what we do."

Edward snorts but doesn't say a word. He just chugs his beer and lets the diplomat lead the conversation.

Rose isn't buying it. "Marijuana is a drug, and if you sell it, that makes you a drug dealer. How's my term inaccurate?"

"It's inaccurate if you don't understand the meaning behind the word 'drug.' Its connotation could mean so many things. Anything that causes a physiological change in the body is classified as a drug. Caffeine' s a drug, but you wouldn't accuse Starbucks of being a drug dealer, would you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I would," Rose says. "They feed my addiction daily."

Jesus, the Pisces in her is strong. She'll never, ever admit she's wrong. She'll just spin words and twist logic to make herself seem right.

"When have you ever fucking called them your dealer?" I ask.

I'm still high as shit, but I'm getting more accustomed to the feel. The initial shock of the outstanding Kush is waning, and I'm not handicapped by it.

"Earlier today, before boarding my plane, I was, like, 'Where's my coffee, dealer? I need a Frappuccino hit,'" Rose says and sticks her tongue out at me.

I laugh. "Yeah. Okay."

Jasper distracts me with the flame from his lighter as he cherries the bowl. I watch him, simply fascinated, as he inhales deep and holds his breath. He blows the smoke out slowly. The stench waters my mouth, and I get the impossible craving.

If there were ever an addict for weed, it'd be me.

"Here," Jasper grunts and passes the pipe over to Rose. She looks hesitant, knowing how fucked up my one hit's gotten me. "Don't worry," he assures her. "The strain's novice-friendly. The THC is weak. I grew this batch for you."

"Okay," she says, and surprisingly, she actually fucking trusts him and takes the pipe.

He reaches over the table with the lighter. "Let me know when you're ready."

Rose puts it to her lips and nods.

Both Edward and I lean forward with our beers cupped in our hands and eyes wide with intrigue.

She's no stranger to smoking and follows the standard rules: inhale and hold. What she's not used to is Jasper's weed. Low THC or not, this type of weed is top shelf and her lungs aren't used to the potency. She fucking hacks and hacks until her beautiful, porcelain skin is beet red.

I can't help but laugh at her.

"Fuck you, bitch," she says mid-cough.

"Boomerang," I reply.

I get a glare, but we both know she deserved that one.

The pipe gets passed between Jasper and Rose a few more times until the bowl is spent. They're the only ones smoking. Edward declines and I'm cut off, so it went by quicker than usual.

That's odd.

But then I realize he half-packed it.

A high can be an enjoyable experience, but it can easily turn into paranoia if a person overdoes it. Jasper understands the fine line and does his best to keep my friend in a good, blissful haze. It works, too.

Rose's posture is relaxed. The wall she had up is lowered just a bit. This was my guy's plan. If she's to speak truthfully and to truthfully listen without judgment, she needs to be open.

Jasper initiates the hard discussion. "You want to know what our intentions are with a seventeen-year-old girl, am I right?"

Rose blinks, letting his words make sense before she responds, but even as high as she is, the fire in that girl remains just as bright. "Damn right. She's my best friend. I love this chick more than anything and know her better than fucking anyone. If I don't protect her heart, who will?"

My anger towards her diminishes. I want to hug her and tell her I'm sorry, but she fucks it all up.

"She falls in and out of love so easily and fast all the damn time. It's exhausting to keep up. Every guy is the one with her," Rose says.

I bite my tongue, but man, it's hard to stay mum. The only guy I've ever been serious about was that douche-canoe, so for her to say this about me is fucking ludicrous.

"I'd assumed when she talked about you guys that it was history repeating itself. She was having fun, being a slut I'd be proud to call a friend, and whatever infatuation or 'love'—" and she fucking does the air quotes right in front of them "—she had for you would eventually fizzle out just like it did with Marcus."

"Who's Marcus?" Jasper interrupts and looks at me. Those blue eyes are filled with so many questions, wretched in confusion.

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

Edward fills in the blanks. "Some asshole before us."

It clicks for him as our first night together comes flooding back. "He's the guy who…"

"Yes." I say before he can finish his sentence.

"Oh" is all he says, but he doesn't look away from me.

God, why does it hurt me more with Jasper that he wasn't my first? Edward's territorial, sure. He doesn't like to think of a guy touching me, but I don't feel guilty. It was something that happened, and it made me who I am today.

Yet with Jasper, I can't shake how it pains him to know there was a boy before him. It isn't just about sex. The thought I might've loved Marcus is what burns him the most.

"It wasn't real," I blurt out.

Rose is witnessing this brief but very telling interaction, and it only heightens her ridiculous fears. "But coming here has changed things. It's not about Bella falling in and out of love anymore."

"It's about us. We're the danger," Jasper says, breaking his connection with me and looking over at her.

I have a direct view of his tattoo. My fingers twitch to trace the lines of the lotus. That's me. He's mine.

"Bella's in this—whatever this is—for the long haul," she says.

"And you don't think we are?" Edward's got his head down, avoiding all eye contact and peeling the label off his beer bottle, but he's fully engaged in the conversation.

"No." She cringes at her own words.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Jasper asks.

"Well, for starters, you're older than her and have more life experiences than she does," Rose says, but both my guys shrug. That isn't a good enough reason for them or for me. "You're heading in different directions and have a different set of priorities. She's in high school still and is supposed to be thinking about what kind of dress she should get for prom. You're all thinking about college and selling your weed. And come on. Let's be real. You're men, all right?"

Edward and Jasper glance at each other, unsure where she's going with this.

"It's in your DNA to bounce from girl to girl. It's not a matter of if you'll get bored with dating a teenager but when," Rose says, not once daring to look me in the eye. "She's crazy enough to think you guys would actually marry her someday."

I never fucking said that!

I'm mortified, but it's too late. They heard her. I can see their gazes on me in my peripheral vision, seeking answers. I don't look up. My eyes stay on our entwined hands. God, they must think I'm crazy.

"So, I'm begging you," Rose says. "If you care about her at all, stop this before it goes any further and dump her."

I'm sober as a priest on Sunday now.

"Dump me? Really?" My face and neck burning from anger. "Okay. That's it. You can't come in here after five minutes and say these things to my boyfriends. You don't even fucking know them, Rose."

"I know guys like them, Bella. They take a young girl, like you, and talk them into a relationship where they share this poor girl like a toy!"

"I'm not a fucking toy."

"You're not? Really?" Every word she utters is dripping in sarcasm.

"No, because despite what you think, what we have is real. You can sit back and judge from the outside, but unless you're in it, you'll never understand us."

"Understand what? A threesome?" The cruel and vicious Rose comes out. She narrows her eyes and spits her venom. "Give me a fucking break. You're not special, Bella. Lots of people have what you guys have. Hell, even I've been there before, and guess what? It never works out. The numbers don't add up. Eventually two people pair off and leave the third person left out in the cold. Who's that gonna be? Are two best friends who've known each other since birth gonna split up over a girl who can't even legally drink with them? Or is it gonna be you?"

I shrink back as her hurtful words echo my own fears.

If this thing I have with my guys—whatever it is—were to end, where would that leave me? I can't choose between them. They own a piece of my heart, and without one beating for the other, I'd be incomplete. That's how they feel about each other. It makes sense to subtract me when the numbers quit adding up.

"She's right," I say and slip my hands out of my guys' grasp. "It'll be me."

Edward curses and grinds his teeth. He carefully, with much restraint, sets his empty bottle on the table. The promise he made to stay is becoming extremely difficult.

Jasper's the least offended.

They may be polar opposites with their reactions, but their love for me is equally as strong and demanding of attention. They both grab my hand and interlock our fingers. It's a message to Rose of our bond and solidarity.

"I can't tell you what's going to happen down the road," Jasper says. "People grow, and relationships change. For better or worse, Edward and I are in it for the long haul with Isabella."

Rose shakes her head. "I just... But how? How will it work in the end?"

"What do you mean?" Jasper asks.

"Three people can't make a relationship work. It just doesn't happen. What if Bella decides one day that she loves Edward more than she loves you? You're at school a lot, and he's with her most of the time. Don't you get jealous thinking about him being with her? And what about you?" She addresses the one man who's fantasizing about ripping her vocal cords out. Probably. "Don't you see the way she looks at Jasper? Doesn't that bother you a tiny bit?"

I smile as Edward ignores her. She's got us all wrong. I see that now. My love for my guys isn't a singular heartbeat but a complicated arrhythmia.

"But are you really seeing us?" Jasper asks. "Or are you seeing what society tells you is appropriate to see?"

"What?" Rose replies, brows etched downward in confusion.

"You say Bella looks at me differently than she does Edward, but you're wrong. It's there, just as strong, but more subtle. Almost as if they're sharing a secret. That's how their connection works." Jasper reaches into the side table for his pen and notepad. "Have you ever heard of a triad?"

"Bella mentioned that's what you guys are," Rose says.

Jasper smiles as he draws on the paper. "Well, a triad is a group of three, like the lines of this triangle." He holds it up so she can see. "Each line stabilizes the other. If you were to take one away, you'd be left with a gap. No matter what you do, you can't make a shape out of these two lines."

Rose stares for a long time but is slow to follow. "Yeah. So? Why are you showing me this?"

"You mentioned numbers and things not adding up. I'm speaking your language."

"No, you're speaking shapes," Rose corrects. "Not the same as math."

Edward chuckles and quickly grabs my beer to stifle himself.

I already know what's coming.

"Geometry's a form of math. Let me take it a step further." Jasper draws another shape. "Four lines make a square." Then he makes another. "Five lines make a pentagon."

Rose sighs with annoyance. "Your point?"

"If two is a number you're basing your argument on why our relationship can't last, I'm showing you how incomplete that number is."

I think he's got her backed into a corner, but she's stubborn and refuses defeat.

"Fine. Forget about the math, then. Let's talk about what's normal and acceptable."

I squirm with frustration. Why can't she fucking trust me? It takes a gentle squeeze of my hand from Jasper to calm me.

"By whose standards? Society's?" he asks.

"Yes," Rose says so confidently, like she's won.

"And you live your life by what people think of you?"

She keeps a strict poker face and lies. "Yes."

"Then there's the difference. You see, we don't care what people think of us and don't let their version of normalcy deter our happiness. I could sit here and tell you how much we love your friend and won't hurt her, but you won't hear me. In the back of your mind, you'll always think about how it's wrong. Three people can't maintain a healthy, equal relationship because of what? Jealousy? Or the belief that it's impossible to love more than one person at once?"

"I'm one dimensional, I guess. I just can't see how it's gonna work," Rose says, and in her defeat, she's the most honest.

I should've prepared her better. God knows my feelings for my guys confused me for a long time. It's a shocking thing to witness. Who knows? If the situation were reversed, maybe I'd feel the same way.

"Here." Jasper takes a pinch of the supreme Kush and packs it in the bowl. "Let me make it three dimensional for you."

Rose doesn't bother pretending. She grabs that thing from his hands quicker than he can give it to her.

He lights her up and breaks it down. "Imagine that triangle again, Rosalie." Jasper points to the side of his neck. "You see how each line leans on the next until it's a complete shape? There's no sharing or jealousy. There's no one line loving the other line more. They want and need each other equally."

Edward nods and taps the top of his beer to the edge of the table.

"Before Bella came into our lives, it felt like we were two lines with nothing to close the gap. We didn't know we were incomplete. Like you said, we were even. The numbers added up."

"Until they didn't," Edward finishes.

"I refused her line for a long time. Society told me the same thing: You can't love more than one without hurting the person you're with," Jasper continues.

I close my eyes as they ping pong off one another.

"And we tried the threesome before."

"It never worked."

"She wouldn't be into it, anyway."

"But I couldn't stop thinking about this line and how good we fit together."

"I tried to convince him to drop it."

"I asked him to get to know her."

"Things started to change."

"Everything clicked."

"Life with her was making sense."

"Without her seemed empty."

"I was willing if she was."

"There was no going back."

Rose clears her throat and breaks the flow. "And that's all good and dandy, but what does that prove? How do I really know you guys really care for her?"

I open my eyes and am disappointed to see she'll never get it.

"Give us the weekend, then," Jasper says. "If you're not convinced we're serious about your friend by Monday, we'll end things with her."

Excuse me?

"That's only four days," Rose says.

"I doubt we'll need that long, but you like even numbers," Jasper says smugly. He reaches over the table with his palm facing her. "We got a deal?"

I panic. "What? Uh, no, we do not have a deal. You can't be serious."

"Bean." Edward cuts me off with a tug into his side. I lock eyes with him. He's begging me to trust Jasper.

I do... but...

Rose steps up to the challenge without really ever fucking thinking about how she's gambling

away my relationship. "Yeah."

I'm yelling, "No, no, no!" but no one's listening.

I watch in horror as they shake hands.

"We got a deal."


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Hello again. I don't have much to report. Life's been hectic and these weeks fly by without my knowledge. Before I know it, I haven't updated in 4-6 weeks. Insane, man. At any rate, I'm still chugging along. I have no idea where this story is going, but we'll get there. I've always promised Annie 45 chapters. That's the goal. Thanks for reading and reviewing, as always.**

**Thank you to my pre-reader, Brina, for getting me honest feedback, and not to mention, all the snapchats. Homey, you're so funny. I can't with you sometimes. **

**Dee, my other pre-reader, who's constantly thinking of these 3. She's more obsessed than I am. I love you for that.**

**And to my awesome beta, MariahajilE, who always rocks it. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to meet you at the Twific meet up. I'm hoping someday soon. Thank you for taking me on. I'm such a hot-mess, and you know it! **

**Annnnnnd here we go.**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

It's a deal…

A deal?!

I can't breathe. My throat's closing up. The room's spinning. Around and around it goes and goes. Everything's a damn blur. It's disorienting and nauseating. I'm going to throw up or pass out, possibly both.

"I need some air," I say and rush out to the deck.

My legs are hundred-pound boulders, and it takes me what seems like forever to get outside and away from everyone, but in actuality, I'm fucking running. I don't stop going until the wooden balcony impedes my trajectory.

I clench the railing and hang over it. My eyes drift and are drawn to the soft honey-hued sand below me. The breeze and the talking of the seagulls are supposed to calm me, but they don't.

To say I'm upset is to put this shit mildly. I'm so infuriated and completely sickened by it.

Edward tells me to trust Jasper, but this is our relationship they're putting on the table.

What if Rose decides they don't love me, and Jasper, a man of his word, ends things?

Fuck!

My stomach cramps, twisting and gnawing deep inside. It hurts so bad. I'm gasping like a fish out of water and feeling woozier than before.

"Bean..."

Jasper's here. I felt him before I heard him. God, he's standing so close and smells so good. It's even more potent out here; completely in his element with the sand, the waves, and the salty air. I don't want to be mad at him. I want to kiss him and be happy. I want things to be as freeing and easy as they were in the Bahamas, without judgment, but that's another world. What we have now is more restrained, fearful of what others may say or do. Even as suffocating as that all may seem at times, it's better than nothing.

And Jasper's willing to risk it?

So, yeah, I'm definitely allowed be angry with him.

"How could you do that?" I ask.

He rubs my back and sighs.

I shake my head because I'm weak. "That's not an answer."

Moving even closer, as if it was possible, he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. I shiver as he whispers to me. "Do you honestly think I'd make that deal if I didn't know we could win it?"

Edward steps outside and closes the arcadia door behind him. He comes to my other side but doesn't touch me. That's not his style. He shows support through his strength and presence.

It helps but only marginally. I still see the world around me crumbling.

I try breathing again through my nose this time, but it's not effective.

"Talk to us," Jasper says after five minutes of my silence. "Please."

The desperation and agony behind that one word is what breaks me out of my hysteria. I'm not dispensable to him. If there was a chance of losing me, of losing us, I'm absolutely certain his world would crumble, too.

Maybe even worse, where there's a complete and utter destruction of his universe as the stars stop aligning and come falling from the sky.

I get my shit together and spin around to face the reality of our situation head on with my chin up.

Both my guys lean into me like magnets, giving me little space and keeping our huddle tight, unified.

"I'm angry you guys would decide the fate of our relationship without even discussing it with me first."

"There wasn't time," Jasper says.

"No!" I say in a harsh whisper. "There was time to pull me aside and ask me if it was okay, but you both decided on your own what was best for us. You left me out of it."

Maybe the real issue is that they made me feel like an outsider.

Edward sees it before Jasper does. "No, she's right," he says. "Fuck the deal. What do you want to do?"

Jasper's arguing that it's the only way, but all I can focus on is green eyes giving me the control. It's ultimately up to me.

"Well?" Edward urges and nudges me with a slight bump of his arm to mine.

I can't think of anything else to do, but the consequences of their plan frighten me.

"How do you expect to prove anything to her?" I gesture toward Rose, who is somewhere inside.

She's nowhere to be seen, and that's a good thing.

I'm mad at her for being such a bitch and making my guys feel like they're perverts. How dare she make us feel like we're doing something wrong? The more I think about how she made a snap judgement after only after five minutes of meeting my guys, the more it infuriates me.

Edward smiles at the fire he sees building behind my eyes. "That's my girl. Feel it."

Jasper's quick to de-escalate it by putting his hand on the side of my neck and letting his heat relax me. "No. Listen, I know you're angry with Rose, but don't let him encourage you to do something drastic and rash, like stop being friends with her."

"It's not drastic or rash if it's the right course of action," he defends.

The mere thought of shipping Rose back to Arizona and never talking to her again saddens me.

"That's not what I want," I say.

Edward's disappointed but aims to be understanding. "What do you want?"

"I want her to see us for what we are, not some stereotypical bullshit she sees on a trashy porn."

It seems so simple.

"That's why we need to keep the deal," Jasper says.

I look over at Edward. "And you're confident this will work?"

He gives a single nod.

"Okay. I'm in." The most difficult thing I'll ever say in this life. "What's the plan? How do we prove it to her?"

I expect to hear something elaborate and cunning, maybe some James Bond-type of trickery, but instead, I hear the unexpected from Jasper.

"We do nothing."

I'm waiting for the punchline, but it never comes.

"'We do nothing'?" I repeat his words back to him. Maybe he got them wrong.

"Nothing," he says, reaffirming my fears.

Edward's okay with this tactic, as well.

It's hard to breathe again.

"We're going to lose," I whisper.

Jasper catches me before I spiral down, grabbing the sides of my face and forcing me to look up.

"Bean, we're in love, right?"

I nod.

"Then why are you so worried? If we just live our lives regardless of who's watching, then anyone will see how we feel about each other."

I'm still on the fence and not completely positive Rose will take her own head out of her ass to see the truth about us.

"But what if—"

"Think Bahamas," Edward says, interrupting me.

Even without knowing it, he's connected with my thoughts, and for some reason, those two words are what convince me that doing nothing is our best bet.

"Okay," I say.

"Are you sure?" Jasper's relieved but still unconvinced.

"Yeah." I wrap my fingers around his wrists and squeeze. "We're in love, and if Rose can't see it in my eyes, then maybe we're just not as close as we used to be."

I just hope by the end of this weekend that my guys are willing to break the bet.

(0)(0)

Okay.

It's been a few hours, and the weed has faded. I've done some meditating with Jasper's Buddha statue. I even surfed to get my feelings situated. All in all, I'm trying really flipping hard not to be angry with Rose.

It's hard.

Believe me.

But we've got four days to deal with each other, and I'd hate to have things end bitterly between us. She's been my best friend for about three years now. We hung out every day before I was shipped off to California. She's been my rock through my meltdowns with my mom, and she eased the loneliness I felt when Jasper left for school in August and it was just me and Charlie.

I can't write all that off based on one disagreement. Deep down, I know she really does care about me. I've even tried looking at things through her perspective.

If Rose moved away and only five months later told me she was dating two guys seven years her senior at the same time, and with her only being seventeen, I'd probably be freaking out, too.

Maybe I would've gone about confronting her differently, but Rose's outspoken nature rarely has the time to beat around the bush.

I decide to take her away from the house to common ground so we can patch things up.

Laguna Hills Mall.

That's our sanctuary.

Obviously, I'm playing with fire by being a reformed shoplifter and hanging out with a current shoplifter, but it's the only way for us to forget about our bullshit.

It works like a charm.

Rose relaxes immediately. I follow her around as she browses the stores and boutiques, her hands touching everything. The gleam in her eyes tells me she's going to swipe something expensive.

I'm like a recovering alcoholic as I watch her. I've got the nervous shakes with the sweaty palms, and my heart's pounding a mile a minute. I've got the itch that hasn't been scratched since I spent my Christmas coupon, but I promised my guys before getting out of the truck I'd be good.

I'm stronger than the urge, I think.

"Bella." Rose pops her head over a rack of silk scarves and distracts me from a delicate silver necklace.

"What's up?" I snap to attention like a guilty person.

She slides a flowered scarf off its hanger and wraps it around her neck. "I wanna apologize for being such a bitch earlier. I wasn't trying to get you upset or anything."

I wave her off and step away from the chain before I do something I can't take back. "Let's not talk about it, okay? I want this weekend to be fun, not filled with fights."

"Yeah. I know that's what we agreed on. I still want to say I'm sorry."

Rose puts her foot in her mouth a lot, but she has no problem admitting she's wrong. I'm a sucker who can't hold grudges and probably gives people more chances than they deserve.

"Apology accepted." I hold out my arms, and she walks into them. We hug tight and try not to cry. It surprises me when she fails, and I snicker. "When did you become such a softy?"

She rebounds and pushes me away. "Shut up!"

That's all it takes for us to get back to where we were.

While browsing in the boutique for a few more minutes, I mention getting something to eat at the food court after my stomach growls.

She wants coffee and a croissant; I just want a cheese danish and ice tea. We pay for our food, because, well, they won't make it until you do.

It's criminal, man.

On the upside, Rose gets a ton of compliments on her "new" scarf from the barista and anyone that passes her. I think it has to do more with how gorgeous and voluptuous she is than some silky fabric with a $1,200 price tag wrapped around her neck.

We eat and walk and talk and walk some more. I'm always restless and can't stand sitting for a long periods of time. Rose gets tired after a while and suggests we go look at surfboards. They're way too expensive for her to buy and too damn bulky for her to steal, but that doesn't stop her sticky fingers, though. It's amazing how this girl doesn't even think about the shit she does. The way she's able to lift the merchandise off the shelves and into her pockets is pure magic. Rose's is a modern-day Houdini.

I can't resist the urge any longer, especially when I see something perfect for my guys.

Okay. That's an excuse. The shit I swipe has no real value; it's all about the difficulty level. I start small. At Claire's, I take a few rings. You know, the shit that'll tarnish once the salty air hits it.

But I'm out of practice and need something to get my feet wet.

The salesgirl sucks at her job. She doesn't give a damn about me, the rings, or Rose and the seven necklaces she drops into her purse.

"This is too easy. I'm fucking bored," Rose complains and openly adds another bracelet to her wrist.

I nod and slide a mood ring onto my finger, which gives me an instantaneous response of a deep purplish blue.

"We need to up the stakes," she says.

"I don't think there are any stores left."

They're all pretty lame and generalized to every mall I've been to. Security's absolute shit. Almost laughable, really.

"What about Zale's?"

I snort. "You're stupid."

"What? Why not?"

It's impossible to hide how ridiculous she's being, and it's written all over my face. I can't even talk without laughing. "Because everything is locked up behind the counter, and they have eyes on you the entire time. It's a dumb idea."

She pouts and tries to push me with some bullshit plan.

"Yeah, I'm not pimping out my tits so you can get a piss-poor quality diamond." I yank my hand away from hers when she attempts to drag me toward the store.

"But, Bella," she whines. "It's a step up from everything we've done. Why are you punking out on me now?"

Yeah, I fucking get it. This mediocre bullshit isn't what we dreamed of doing. We had plans for bigger risks and swipes in our future. Well, we used to. Things have changed since I met my guys, and I'm trying to be better for them.

Until now…

"Shit." I pull the ring off my finger. "I gotta take this shit back."

I speedwalking through the dense crowd, but Rose catches up with me.

"Um, what? Are you insane?"

"I promised them I'd be good. I totally fucked up."

Returning to the scene of the crime to return the loot I stole is even riskier than the actual act of stealing.

"I know," I say in response to Rose echoing my own thoughts. "But I won't be able to look them in the eyes if I keep this stuff."

"They knew you were a thief when they met you."

I already know where this is going, but I bite anyway. "Your point?"

"It's kind of messed up that you have to change everything about yourself to please them. I know you get crazy about your guys, but you never once stopped doing what you loved with Marcus."

There she goes again, comparing apples to fucking oranges, and whatever cease fire we agreed on is over. I'm annoyed and stop abruptly from my fast pace. Rose slams into me with a hard thud.

I turn around and glare.

"What?" she snaps.

"I'm not the same Bella you knew in Arizona," I say as coolly and as calmly as possible, but it still comes out terse.

She scoffs. "No shit. That's what I'm talking about. You've changed everything about yourself for these guys. I want you to be proud of who you are—were! There's no shame in being the Bella I knew."

There's a longing in her voice, and it softens my anger but only slightly. Her logic's still skewed.

"I understand how hard this must be for you. I'm different, but to say being a shoplifter is something to be proud of is the stupidest thing you can ever say."

"I'm stupid? Why? Because I like who I am? Because I won't change for some guy?"

People are staring at us now. She's a larger-than-life person with a booming voice. This isn't the conversation I wanted broadcasted to everyone in Laguna. She can leave, but I live here. The stigma against me is bad enough; I don't need "thief" added to it.

"Look. It doesn't really matter what you think," I say, feeling Jasper's wisdom and patience take over. "I refuse to lose the trust of my guys because I can't control myself around you. You can help me take these items back, or you can go get yourself another fucking latte. Your choice."

Rose stares at me for a long time, calling my bluff.

I get tired of waiting for her to decide. "I'll see you later, then."

She's a ride-or-die kind of friend, and I don't get far before she's running after me.

"Wait up."

(0)(0)

There are about five to seven stores I have to return things to. The first and second ones are simple. I walk in, set the sunglasses and perfume on a circle table toward the front, and get the hell out. The third one's a bit trickier. The cashier recognizes me from earlier and tries again to get me to sign up for the in-store credit cards. I lie and tell her I'm fifteen. She backs off a little but keeps an eye on me. I have to ditch the shit in the dressing room.

This is scary. My heart's in my throat, and my entire ass crack is drenched in sweat.

Seriously, all this trouble over some belt?

Well, okay. Granted, it was Hermes. I'm sad to see it go. I picked it out specifically for Jasper. He'd love it so much, but he'll love it even more when I come back and buy it on the legit.

At the fifth store, I end up purchasing the Buddha nick knack and the Swiss army knife I swiped earlier. I'll give these to my guys after Rose leaves.

The seventh and final store should be the easiest of my returns. It's Claire's, for fuck's sake. Everyone jacks from that place. I only have a few rings and a hair clip to put back, but of course, unforeseen circumstances end up derailing me.

Rose is busy creating my diversion by asking the sales girl about piercing policies and if they do nipples there. I've returned everything but my mood ring. For some reason, I'm hesitant to give that one up. My hesitation ends up being what gets me face to face with some Laguna tribe girls I'd gone to school with.

They don't recognize me at first, but Jasper calls me and his ringtone, Marley's "One Love," plays. It's his favorite song. He plays it at all his parties, and that's what makes the girls connect the dots.

Their disdain for me is obvious.

"You're Betty, right?" one girl asks.

The other two snicker.

She did that shit on purpose, but I'll fucking play their game.

"It's Bella," I say.

"Right," she says with an eyeroll. "So, we haven't seen you at school lately."

"That's probably because I stopped going."

I'm trying to sidestep them at this point, but they keep getting in my way and blocking my escape.

"It's not like we can blame you," another lemming adds. She's the DUFF out of the group, the only brunette with the most to prove. "Girls like you really aren't welcome there, anyway."

"Girls like me?" I ask.

The leader with a "Katy" gold chain hanging from her neck leans in and whispers, "You know, a slut."

"Oh," I whisper back. "That?"

They all nod like a bunch of baseball bobbleheads on Charlie's car dash.

"The whole school saw you sucking face with them that day and then at the party in January. Everyone in Laguna's talking about it," lemming number two says. Each syllable she spits my way is dripping with disgust.

"About what, exactly?" I ask. "The weed I get for free on the daily or the two top tribal members I fuck?"

The lemmings gasp, but Katy smiles. "Any girl who's willing to sleep with two guys—"

"Probably more," the duff takes another jab at me.

"Exactly," Katy and the other nameless lemming say together.

Then the girls laugh.

I'm bored. Like this is something I haven't heard before.

"Yeah. Whatever. I'm a slut," I say and, for the millionth time, attempt to get away. "Can you move, please?"

"We're not done." Katy puts her hands on me and pushes back. "What the Whitlock and Cullen boys see in you is baffling really. You're Arizona gutter trash and so below our tribe, Betty."

"It's Bella," Rose chimes in from behind me.

They're all taken back by her, and I see the "holy shit" in their eyes. She's tall and so stunningly intimidating.

Katy attempts to look bigger by throwing her shoulders back and stepping on her tip-toes. "And you are?"

"The bitch that will literally beat your ass if you put your goddamn hands on her one more time."

I know she's not bluffing, but they don't. Naturally, they look at her perfectly manicured nails and assume she wouldn't risk breaking them.

Yeah, no. Rose is crazy and has no problem getting dirty.

Katy laughs, which immediately has her lemmings following suit. "Right," she says. "And I'm guessing you know the kind of girl you're hanging out with."

The other two girls hiss out "slut" and "trash."

I glance back and shrug. "Doesn't matter."

And it's true. I'm over the callousness, but Rose is in her protective mode and puts herself in front of me. "The fuck it doesn't! I'm not going to stand here and let these whores talk shit to my best friend. I've killed people for less."

She and Edward are so much alike. No wonder they instantly bumped heads.

Things are getting loud and heated, the tension rising, and the sales girl is fully aware. She storms toward us, and in a panic, I pocket the mood ring.

"Yeah, so what if my girl is dating two guys at the same time? They're in a relationship, and that doesn't make her a slut. However, sucking off the captain of the football team and then sleeping with all his buddies in the same night at some lame homecoming party is the true definition of a slut."

We're escorted out of the store by three security guards. The girls stare, slacked jaw and wide-eyed at their friend Katy as she rambles on with some excuse about this guy named Tommy and how she never sucked him off or fucked his friends.

"But how did she know?" they keep on asking her.

The manager of Claire's tells us since we're not welcome back because we disrupted his store and the customers. Rose flips them off and cusses about how their jewelry sucks anyway. I'm laughing my ass off. It's a ridiculous situation. Everything about this day has been ridiculous. It's so juvenile, and I'm oddly above all that petty, high school shit now.

"Come on, Rocky," I say and pull Rose toward the front entrance to where my guys are waiting for us.

"I can't believe those bitches. What gives them the right to judge what you have with Edward and Jasper?" she stops mid-rant as she realizes what she just fucking said and how hypocritical it sounds. "But it's different than what I did."

"Is it really?"

She yanks her hand from mine and stands her ground. "Yes, it is. You're my friend. I only say the shit I say because I care about you."

"Then take a good look at my eyes and tell me one thing," I say. "Do I love them?"

Her smile is soft and sincere. "I know you do."

"And what about them?" I gesture toward the doors. Even from here, through the glass, I can see Edward and Jasper outside waiting. My heart swells and skips a beat. "Do they love me?"

Rose takes the scarf off her neck and wraps it around mine. "They fucking better."

(0)(0)

That night we have a barbeque and bonfire out on the beach. It was supposed to be just us four, but I begged Edward and Jasper to invite Emmett. They were confused at first, but then I explained he might be a good fit for Rose. If they hit it off, maybe they'll spend the weekend at his place and give us alone time. I didn't realize how important alone time was with my guys until I didn't have any.

It was a last-minute invite sort of thing. Luckily, the dude is always down to eat and said he'd be here in an hour.

Rose is in full panic mode now. It's getting real for her. She's changed about a dozen times and performed about a million and one styles on her hair. Do men like it up, or do they like it down? Hell, I don't know. The opinions of my guys vary, but mostly, I told her, men in general like hair down, preferably the beach wave.

As it gets closer and closer to the hour, my girl gets more incapable of doing anything for herself. She can't put on makeup because her hands are shaking so badly. I do it for her but keep it simple. I don't use too much foundation or blush because she doesn't need any. Just a little eyeliner and lip gloss, and that's it. The guy's going to lose his shit over her no matter what.

I'm in the kitchen with Jasper helping him prepare the hamburgers when the doorbell rings. He moves to answer it, but I offer to do it instead. Rose yells out from the bathroom that she isn't ready. I don't think she ever will be. This guy's got her so twisted, and she hasn't even met him.

"Hey, little Bella!" Emmett beams as soon as I open the door.

"Hi, Em. You're right on time. Jasper's just about to put the burgers on the grill."

"Sweet." He's got a case of wine coolers and a killer bong. "These are for you."

I'm overwhelmed by his gifts. "Get the fuck out. Seriously?"

"It's the proper thing to do."

"Thank you," I say and immediately grab the bong out of his hands. I don't drink wine coolers, but Rose might.

He peeks over my head and scans the house. "Is everyone outside?"

"Yeah, but um…" I wrap my arm around his, leading him towards the futon to sit. "I want you to meet somebody."

"A hot friend?" He grins and waggles his eyebrows.

"Yes," I say, surprised by how he's more eager than wary. "You don't mind being set up?"

"Not at all. Hot girls usually run with hot girls," he says, and I blush. "But since I've gotten home, not too many hot girls wanna hook up with a cripple."

"You're not a cripple," I say.

He knocks on his prosthetic leg through his jeans and shrugs. "Whenever someone's missing a limb, it's crippling."

"Well, Rose isn't a bitch like that," I say but feel instantly guilty because she doesn't know about his leg. She's not one to get freaked out about something like that. The girl dated a guy who played for the Arizona Coyotes with his front teeth missing and a broken nose, but I don't want to say something as fact and be wrong.

"Rose?" His grin spreads wider. "That's your friend's name?"

His smile is infectious, so I can't help but do the same. "It's short for Rosalie, actually."

"Wait," he says, leaning forward, his face contorted with suspicion. "Does she have a lovely personality?"

Jasper and Edward are listening by the nearby window and are shaking their heads.

"No," I say, knowing exactly what he wants to hear but knowing my next words are the truth. "She's horribly high maintenance."

"All right, then." He claps his hands and stands. "Where's she at?"

"Um…" I glance back toward the bathroom. She's still in there. What kind of grand entrance is she planning? The seconds tick over into a minute. Time's up. "Let me go get her."

Going to the bathroom, I knock once on the door. Rose opens it and lets me. She's changed again into a bikini with a sheer black pullover dress. My friend has gained a few pounds in the last few months, but her curves have always been something I'd kill to have. That womanly body is sick. I'm stunned and jealous.

"You're going to kill the poor guy," I say.

"I don't know if I can do this." She's pacing and cracking her knuckles.

"Okay. Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?"

She scowls. "Don't be funny."

"I'm sorry, but this isn't like you to give all freaked over some guy."

"I know. God, I know. I'm not sure what the hell is going on with me. This guy—that guy—for whatever reason, makes me nervous."

I'm not sure what to do with this new Rose, but if my selfish need to have my men all to myself this weekend is going to work, I need her to get her sexy ass out there and meet Emmett. If that means I have to drag her out by the boob, then so be it.

"If it makes you feel any better, the dude's not all that hot," I say, and to further push my lie home, I make gagging noises.

She doesn't buy it one bit. "You're really dumb, you know that?"

"What? I'm being totally honest. The guy's gross. Lay him at your own risk."

She rolls her eyes and readjust her tits. "Yeah. We'll see about that."

Pushing past me, she walks out to the living room. I'm standing in the hallway, wanting to see the whole thing go down but also give them their space. I can't really hear anything, but I don't have to. Just by their facial expressions and body language, it's comical.

Rose struts over to him, all her 5'9" long-legged glory, and taps him on the shoulder. He didn't notice her enter the room because his face was buried in his phone screen, but the second he looks up, I swear to God, his fucking eyes bulge out of his skull. The once-confident, sly Emmett is figuratively brought to his knees.

He stutters, "Hello. How are you? Damn. What?"

She laughs, but it's not condescending. It's endearing. Emmett relaxes. And just like that, they're both hooked. I've never seen anything like it—that instantaneous connection between two people where their universes collide with a big bang and all the stars in the sky align so effortlessly.

I know right then she'll be at his house tonight.

(0)(0)

I've been to a lot of barbeques and cookouts in Arizona. We have few lakes to go boating on: Saguaro, Butcher Jones, and Canyon. Or if you're poor, like Rose, you'd just get drunk at Squaw Peak. All of it is fun and beautiful at sunset, but nothing in this world comes close to sitting by a bonfire on the beach with my guys as Jasper strums his guitar to match the crashing of the waves. It's beyond just an experience; it's everything.

He knows every Nirvana song. "Aero Zeppelin" was the first one he taught himself. I guess it's the hardest to learn. I've never heard of it before tonight. Like most people my age who claim to love the band, I only know the more popular ones from the Nevermind album, but listening to him play them on his guitar is fucking enchanting.

To kill me further, Edward leans in close to my ear and sings the lyrics to me.

So low, so deep. His voice is guttural and melodious and romantic. It has the power to overwhelm, and I'm paralyzed. All my thoughts and breathing are centered on his words.

With eyes so dilated, I've become your pupil.

As Edward gets into the chorus, stupid Rose and Emmett come back from wherever and witness him putting his soul on display for me. It gets shut it down real fucking fast. I want to scream at him to not stop singing, that it's just us and to forget about them, but the moment's gone and ruined.

As the tide gets higher and water comes dangerously close to our fire, we all decide to pack it in for the night. Rose has hung out longer than I'd expected and wanted her to, but she needed to make sure I was safe. Besides, Jasper brought home several different strains and potency for a test run, and Emmett was like a kid in a candy store. He needed to taste every flavor, and the boy got mad munchies. He decides to take Rose out to the best place to have breakfast in Laguna at 11:00 at night.

I'm folding up my favorite flannel comforter when Rose hugs me from behind.

"So, um…" She's so nervous that she's shivering. "You okay with this?"

"Okay with what?"

"You know." Her voice dips lower, uncharacteristically bashful. "I really like him, but I don't want to ditch you."

I roll my eyes and snort. "You're not ditching me, okay? I'm at home with my guys. Believe me. I want you to get lost."

"Really? You're not saying that just to make me feel better?"

I drop the flannel and turn around to face her. The sparks of the dying fire barely get a glimpse of her guilt-ridden face. There's a code between girls: Never leave a friend drunk and in a precarious situation.

Luckily for her, none of those scenarios apply to me.

"Leave now," I say as brashly and as honestly as I can, "or hear me fuck my guys."

"Enough said," she says with a wink. "Consider me a memory."

Rose helps me finish packing up all the pillows and blankets but then runs to the bathroom to change into something more appropriate for the public.

I sit at the kitchen bar, sipping on a wine cooler and rolling a joint. I'm usually a bong or pipe kind of girl, less fuss and muss, but Emmett brought over these raw brand papers from his shop and I've been eager to try them. He's talked all night about how they're so vegan and natural and shit. Nobody in this house is against eating meat, not even my lovely Buddha, but the no additives and the way it's supposed to be a smoother smoke than a pipe intrigue me.

"First time, huh?" Emmett sits next to me.

I'm startled and jerk away from him. "What?"

"Rolling a joint," he says.

"It's that obvious?"

"Well…" He smiles and gestures towards the counter.

It's a complete fucking mess. Weed is everywhere but in the actual paper. Several of my attempts to pack it all in have failed, and I've been at this for a solid twenty minutes.

My face heats up to the boiling radius of hell. "So embarrassing."

"Hey," he says, nudging me with his elbow. "Don't even stress about it. Okay?"

I nod but officially swear off rolling all future weed.

"Let me roll you a fatty as a thank you," he says.

"A thank you for what?"

"For hooking me up with Rose."

I watch him work as he divvies up what I'd laid out by half. It fits nicely into the paper, and with ease, he rolls it into one big, fat-ass joint. It's massive, but compared to what I was trying to roll, it's itty bitty. My portion size with weed is an equivalent to my food—way more than I can ever fucking hope to handle.

"You're welcome, but I did it as a favor to her," I say.

He's a little disenchanted by this and solemnly gives me the joint. "So she was just looking to hook up with any dude this weekend?"

"Just you, dude."

"You told her about me?"

"Yeah. A few weeks ago." I hold out my hand, and a lighter miraculously appears. "She liked the pictures I sent her."

"What pictures?"

I'm lighting the joint, too immersed in the red glow to lie. "The ones I took when you were showing me and Edward the house. She had to meet you after that. It's why she flew out here."

"Really?"

Oh, fuck.

I snap out of my stupidity and look at Emmett to assess the damage. He's grinning.

"You can't let her know I told you that." I'm scanning the room for her, for my guys, and for anyone who would narc me out. "She'll kill me."

"Don't worry about it." He takes the joint out my fingers and inhales deep. "Your secret's safe with me."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, but I've got another question for you."

"Okay…" I cringe, afraid of what truth he may ask of me. "What is it?"

"Did you tell her about my leg?"

I shake my head.

The hope drains from his eyes, and the smirk lessens. "Do you think…?"

"What?"

"Will this fuck up my chances?"

Emmett refuses to look at me, but I can see all the vulnerability he's holding in his shoulders, the slump and deflation. This bad boy is broken in a way no girl can repair or change. They get serious with him, find out he's missing a limb, get freaked out, and bail. He's been okay with that and often makes jokes about how they couldn't handle what Em's packing or not packing. I keep on forgetting the punch line. The point is that the happy-go-lucky guy isn't one to get down or hurt by this rejection.

But Rose is a game changer. If she denies him, he'll be devastated.

"No," I say, and it isn't to comfort him or tell a lie. "She's really into you."

Emmett smiles, and his ears get red. "No shit?"

I snag the joint out of his fingers and slide off the barstool. "No shit."

"Thanks, B."

"Anytime," I say but jab him in the side with my finger. "But if you fucking hurt her…"

"I won't," he says quickly and convinces me with one sincere plead of his eyes.

"But if you do, I'll send Edward after you to hack off your other leg."

He laughs. "You don't have to worry. She's safe with me."

If I tell him I know he's the best guy for my best friend and would never mistreat her, my threat would lose all its bite. I just take this killer fatty he rolled for me and rejoin my two loves on the patio deck.

(0)(0)

The door closes behind Rose and Emmett with a soft click, and they get into his car and leave. I'm listening to every sound and holding my breath. It's when I don't hear the engine anymore and it's just the soft waves and the voices of my guys permeating around me that I relax. No amount of weed could get me to this level of ease. I've tried all night, but being under the microscope and having every word monitored by your best friend, the one person who determines whether or not the two men in your life truly deserve to be with you, well, it's fucking exhausting.

"Finally," I say and further my face into Jasper's neck.

He chuckles and rubs my back. "It wasn't that bad."

"You're right. It wasn't. But still." I want to scream from sheer frustration. He holds me tighter now. Maybe I'm milking it for his sympathy. Who knows? "Did we really act normal?"

"Yes," Jasper says.

"No," Edward says.

I smile but don't move my lips away from their place on his skin.

"What do you mean? I think it went well," Jasper says to Edward.

"It went as well as it was supposed to, but none of what happened tonight was us acting normal. How many times did you touch her?" he asks.

Zero. I know that answer. This is the closest I've been to either them tonight. There was that one time that Edward dropped his guard, but Rose and Emmett weren't around to witness that. When they came back from their walk on the beach, my guys pretended there was this impenetrable force field around me.

"I was being respectable toward her friend," Jasper defends. "PDA makes some people uncomfortable."

"I'm not saying you're the only asshole guilty of it. I did it, too, but don't give me that bullshit answer. When we were in the Bahamas, neither one of us gave a shit about who was watching."

And that's exactly how we were supposed to act. Or not act. Fuck. I don't know anymore. Proving ourselves to appease a friend of mine seems rather pointless. Rose's opinion of my relationship doesn't matter. It'd been nice to have her support, but at the end of the day, if she doesn't approve of my guys, then fuck her.

"It seemed…" Jasper sighs. "Intrusive, right?"

I pull myself away to look at his face. He's too beautiful to look this sad and depleted, so my heart breaks. "You're supposed to be the bright sun in my world."

"Yeah, I know, but maybe this shit was a bad idea, Bean. It feels like… like I've sold our relationship."

Edward snorts and kicks his chair. "Dude, shut up."

"What? I'm being real with her."

I'm too busy rubbing away the stress lines across his forehead to get myself in the mix of their fight.

"You're not helping fix the situation."

Jasper flicks his blues up at me, seeking a reprieve. "What should we do?"

He seems so different and unsure of himself without his dreads. Maybe they held his confidence. Whatever caused the sudden change, it's my job to show him he's the same man he was: my humble soul, the nurturer and heart of this triad. He keeps us all together in harmony.

"We don't hold up our end of the bargain," I say.

It's so simple. Fuck Rose. If she doesn't see what's clearly in her face, then there's nothing we could've done to prove it to her. Jasper, however, hears this suggestion and winces. He's a man of his word, and breaking it will tarnish his whole being.

"That's a good plan," Edward says.

Jasper pushes the hair away from my face and keep his hands on me to make up for lost time. "And if we win and she doesn't hold up her end of the bargain?"

"Who cares? She's not in this relationship. It's ours. The one mistake we all made is making her think she had any influence over us."

I feel Edward's eyes on me. The feeling is intense, burning and begging me to look at him. When I do, I'm not disappointed. The proud smile, so uncharacteristically big, gives me the push to know this plan will work.

"So we take the power back," Jasper says.

"Exactly!" Edward and I say.

He groans but laughs. "All right."

There's little hope to win against me, but when I have a SEAL on my side, it's a done deal.

I'm excited, kissing him all over his face. "Thank you! I swear it'll work."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, putting his hands on my shoulders and gently pushing me back. "But we've got to do something positive to cleanse out the negative."

"Fucking Christ!" Edward grumbles as he stands and walks inside.

But I don't care what moody pants thinks. I'll do anything to help Jasper feel on the right side of good again. "What you got in mind?"

Jasper takes a deep breath. As the ocean silences behinds us, I can hear the rapid pace of his heart. He's nervous. A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline and down his face.

I keep staring into his blue eyes, hoping to see his thoughts, but they're turbulent and chaotic. His mind is a hurricane. "Baby, what is it?"

"My uncle called me and invited to work with him again."

My heart sinks, but I force a smile. I know expectation versus reality is a stark difference. "That's so, so great. How long will you be gone?"

"About eight weeks."

No air. My lungs. Choke. I can't… The future is closer than ever.

"Okay," I say, and although I want to cry and tell him not to go, I realize he needs this. "When are you supposed to leave?"

"September 21st," he says.

There's some hope. It's at least six months away. We've got the summer and my big turn into an adulthood. It could work. I can handle this. But it also makes me wonder…

"Why such the long wait?"

"Because going after graduation is too soon." Jasper touches me some more, across the neck and along my chest, just above the breasts. He smiles, enjoying watching my breath catch. "And the flight is out of San Francisco."

"And?" I'm lost, even as I stare at his mouth, willing the words to make sense.

"Well, I don't know anybody there, and you'll definitely need to be eighteen to fly internationally this time."

I gulp as my brain slowly processes everything. "What are you saying?"

"Bean…" he says, making my world stop. "Come to Cambodia with me."


End file.
